


The Lull of Night

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Alive Hale Family, Bottom!Stiles, Cannibalism, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, M/M, Middle Ages, Minor Character Death, Multi, Non-Graphic Violence, Romance, Smut, Top!Derek, eventual BAMF!Stiles, evil!Aiden, fairy tale romance, good!Ethan, good!Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2018-01-01 10:07:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek/Stiles AU. “The Wall was built around the city to keep the werewolves out, but Stiles and Scott decide to sneak outside of it. It may be completely traumatizing since they run into one of the werewolves, but they manage to get out of there alive. Scott vowed to never go out again, but Stiles… Well, he keeps going back. Those steel blue eyes shine like stars, after all."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I: Curiosity

**Author's Note:**

> Gosh I love Teen Wolf… It’s literally the show that you never want to tell anyone you watch because it sounds terrible before you watch it, but it’s good when you get into it and I am into it and gosh *swoons at all of the attractive actors* Fictional characters suck. Anyway! A Sterek AU, wee :) Excluding notes it’s 55 pages and about 27,730 words, and it’s kind of like a medieval/“olden” time sort of thing (being that everyone has to use candles and there aren’t any guns and shit), where the city of Beacon is cut off from the forest of Hills (it sounds stupid I know but just go with it) by a big thing called the Wall. Beacon is the city of humans, but the forest of Hills is where the werewolves are. They’re enemies and blah yada blah. Also unlike canon, all werewolves have a wolf form—though really big, so you can just picture the ones in Twilight (yeah I went there).  
> Also the Wall that I mentioned? The city is just one big giant circle, so picture the circular wall like a big, circular, taller Great Wall of China. You know, tall enough that you’d probably die if you fell off of it and too tall for any wolves to jump up and get over it. But yeah other than that there ain’t much explanation. And because I can, here’s a list of who’s human and who’s a werewolf:
> 
> Humans: Stiles, Patrick (my made-up name for the sheriff), and Claudia Stilinski; Allison, Chris, Victoria, Gerard, Kate, and Alexander (dead pre-story) Argent; Scott, Melissa, and Rafael McCall; Jackson Whittemore, Lydia Martin, Danny Mahealani, Matt Daehler (dead pre-story), Alan Deaton, Marin Morell, Robert “Bobby” Finstock, Heather, Danielle (Heather’s friend), Braiden (that chick that rescued Isaac on the motorcycle woo), and Bennett (one of the Argent’s men)
> 
> Werewolves: Derek, Cora, Peter, Laura, and Talia Hale, Vernon Boyd (no wolves have last names, so he goes by Vernon), Isaac Lahey, Erica Reyes, Deucalion, Ennis, Kali, Aiden and Ethan, Adrian Harris (goes by his first name too), Jennifer Blake, Paige (dead pre-story), Emily (the lesbian that was eaten whoops), Caitlin (the lesbian that survived wee).

** Part I: Curiosity **

_I loved not the night but he drew me,_   
_With dark whispers he beckoned me near_   
_His shadows I thought would subdue me,_   
_Enslave me in chains made of fear._   
  
_I wished not to look but he wooed me,_   
_His strong, gentle hand turned my face_   
_I opened my eyes and saw beauty,_   
_Where I’d seen but a desolate place_   
  
_I fled from the night but he chased me,_   
_He caught me in arms of dark steel_   
_I sighed as I let him embrace me_   
_In his touch, at least, I could feel_   
  
_I turned to the night and he kissed me,_   
_On his lips I tasted sweet wine_   
_I opened to night’s sacred mystery_   
_He took me, and whispers, “You’re mine.”_   
  
_The night has become my dark lover_   
_By day but a dream, bittersweet_   
_At sunset I run to no other_   
_My surrender to night is complete.  
_

—Dark Love by Maggie Shayne—

   “This is the worst idea ever,” Scott mutters, scaling up the trunk of a tree.

   “The best of the worst,” Stiles says, grinning from where he’s already in it. It’s the only tree close enough and big enough to the Wall that they can get close enough to jump onto the top of it. Stiles and Scott have done it before, but only to ever sit up top. _This_ time they have a dead body to find. Stiles’ father is head of the day patrol, so he knows whenever anything suspicious shows up.

   Scott sighs. “The _worst_ of the worst, and that’s why I’m here. Hurry up and jump.”

   The Wall is easy to get up to by the tree, maybe, but the difficult part is getting past all of the patrolmen on top. Night patrols never go out of the city (that’s dangerous and stupid, which is probably why Stiles and Scott are doing it), so they all just make sure the city is secure from the top. (Usually that’s what the day patrol does, too, but there are also the hunting parties that go out to get the city food, and that’s when the patrol gets down on the ground.)

   The Wall is the protection of the city of Beacon, circular so that the enemies outside—that is, the werewolves—are more confused. Being that it is a circle, the members of the city all chose to divide things into sections like that of a clock. Twelve is at the top since it signifies the beginning/end of the day, and that’s where the city counsel is located. It’s cut into pie-like slices after that, with the middle of the city known as the courtyard since the slices all meet in the middle. Residential homes are in section one to three, and while Stiles lives in one, Scott is way over in the back corner of three, which is annoying since they’re always sneaking out to meet up with each other.

   The tree they used is in section four, but Stiles and Scott have to run all the way to section eight to get to the section that the dead body is in. Of course, section eight has more patrolmen now, so instead they’re just going to seven. They have to duck and sneak a lot, but they’ve done it before, so it’s no big deal.

   About twenty feet all around the perimeter of the Wall is kept as dirt so that nothing grows up to give the werewolves a way to somehow get inside, and there _are_ rope ladders to get in and out, but Stiles and Scott don’t use those since they can’t just leave the ladders hanging when they get to the bottom (there’s always somebody to pull it up or put it back down for the patrolmen since they’re following rules, but Stiles and Scott are most certainly not following the rules). Instead they use their own devices, which are really just ropes that are tied to the same stakes as the ladders. The only thing that makes it better than the ladders is that they’re painted to blend in with the wall and also that Stiles and Scott have to use complete upper-body strength to get back up the ropes (which they have since they’ve both been training themselves to be patrolmen since they met each other; they’re only seventeen now, but you can’t be a patrolman until you’re eighteen since it’s so perilous).

   “These are so dangerous,” Scott mutters, tying the loose end of the rope around his waist (precautions in case he slips, but it would probably just break his back at this height—case in point, dangerous).

   Stiles grins, tying the rope into the ladder stake. “Yet safer for the city than the ladders. Me first?”

   “No way, little red. I’m the hero here.”

   Stiles rolls his eyes as Scott starts to scale down the wall. He calls Stiles “red” sometimes because the color of cloak he wears is red (just like the rest of his family. Each family has a crest color). At least it’s not _brown_ like Scott’s is. Boring, though it does blend in better…

   When Stiles touches onto the ground beside his best friend he instantly feels colder. They’ve never been down here before… Just looked at it from the top. His father has never let them come down _because_ it’s so perilous. The woods are filled with dangerous creatures, after all… Lions and tigers and bears. But the most dangerous to them are the _werewolves_. Man eating, shape shifting beasts with glowing eyes and a display of the purest, most mindless rage on every full moon. Stiles has never actually seen one up close before. They’ve got history books, sure, but the pictures and descriptions don’t do them the justice that Stiles wants to see.

   “This way,” he whispers, running straight into the woods so that none of the patrolmen notice him. “It shouldn’t be far.”

   It’s totally far, but they do find it, and it is _not_ pretty in the dark.

   “Those are guts,” Scott whispers.

   “It’s cut in half,” Stiles hisses, looking over the top half of the body.

   They gasp a little, looking at the face.

   “It’s Matt,” Scott says, eyes very, very wide.

   Matt of the Daehler’s wasn’t a nice kid, and he was exiled about two weeks ago, being subject to whatever the werewolves of the Hills decided for him. Apparently this was his fate.

   “Does it look like they turned him before killing him?” Stiles asks.

   “I can’t tell,” Scott says, picking up a stick and poking at his neck. “I don’t think so. Why would they kill one of their own kind?”

   “We exiled one of our own kind, so why wouldn’t they?”

   Scott shakes his head. “No, that’s not it. Werewolves die all of the time. They wouldn’t make bigger patrols if a werewolf was killed. Matt was never changed. This isn’t a wolf body, it’s just human.”

   Stiles purses his lips, taking the stick for a turn with poking. He feels a little bad, but Matt honestly deserved to be executed after all of the stunts he pulled. He got along really great with Jackson of the Whittemore’s, but he used to always hit on Allison of the Argent’s (Scott’s girlfriend) and everything had to go his way or “you’d be sorry”. He was a great artist, though. All the pictures he painted of Allison were perfect replicas. The fact that he kept them under his bed, though, was creepy.

   “Think we should tell his paren—” Stiles starts, but suddenly Scott _slams_ his hand over Stiles’ mouth and scrambles them backwards, accidentally knocking Stiles right into a pile/puddle of mushy, watery brown mud and leaves.

   “What the hell?” he snaps up at his best friend.

   Scott shakes his head and points.

   Stiles turns and—oh. A wolf, big and black, with glowing blue eyes. It’s just staring at him, fangs bared but growl silent. “We’re going to die,” Scott chokes out in a very voice-cracking whisper/squeak.

   But as the wolf steps closer, it stands and morphs in front of them until there stands a very intimidating looking man dressed in skins and furs. His hair matches the black fur and his eyes are still glowing steel blue, but he looks so…human.

   Stiles wants to move. He wants to run and sprint and never come back. But he can’t. He’s frozen. He’s terrified. Scott is still standing behind him, the same.

   The wolf simply stares—not at Scott, but straight into Stiles’ eyes, like he’s searching. But all of the sudden a howl rips through the air, and the man drops back, instantly into his wolf form, and simply sprints away.

   Stiles swallows tightly. “What just happened? Why didn’t he attack us?”

   “Who cares?” Scott hisses. “ _Run_!”

   Stiles has never run faster. He swings up the rope after Scott, neither of them tying it around their waists. His body is shaking and multiple other howls are beginning to rip themselves through the woods. When Stiles and Scott look down to pull the rope up, Stiles practically passes out at the commotion they caused. Wolves—everywhere. Six of them, all with blue eyes, running up to the edge of the forest and growling and snarling up at the boys.

   “We are so dead,” Scott hisses over the wolves and the shouts from the patrolmen, throwing the rope over the other end of the Wall. They don’t have enough time to go back to the tree in section four without being caught.

   “The worst of the worst,” Stiles chokes out, mostly to himself. And he’s about to say that they’re never doing this again, but…but then he sees that wolf again. He’s the third biggest of the six… Why did he show Stiles and Scott his human form? Why didn’t he kill them? They always kill.

   Scott drags Stiles out of the staring contest by whispering his name, so Stiles yanks his eyes away and practically throws himself over the other edge of the Wall and to the bottom of it. They’ve got to leave the rope there, but it’s the only way they won’t get caught…

   “We’re never doing that again,” Scott pants as he and Stiles slam themselves into Stiles’ bedroom. Stiles’ father, Patrick, already knows that Scott is staying over. He’s usually only on day patrol, but after they found the body he’s basically out all the time. “ _Ever_.”

   Stiles doesn’t nod as they drop to sit on his bed. “He showed us his human form,” he whispers instead. “Why?”

   “The hell if I know, but he didn’t look away from you even _once_.”

   “You were thinking about leaving me there, weren’t you?”

   “Yeah.”

   “Scott!”

   “But I didn’t!”

   Stiles rolls his eyes. “Whatever, you suck. Hurry up and fall asleep so my father doesn’t question anything.”

   “You think I’ll be able to _sleep_ after that?!”

   “Try to!”

   “Alright, _alright_ , fine.”

   Stiles doesn’t go to sleep like Scott is trying to do, instead moving to clean off their shoes and his cloak since they’re covered in mud (even in the warm months they get quite a bit of rain). His father is going to come straight to them when he gets the chance to accuse them of causing the ruckus (Patrick knows very well that Stiles is too adventurous for his own good and that Scott always gets dragged into tagging along), so he’s got to make sure he’s cleaned up all the evidence. He didn’t one time that they broke into the city counsel office and his father figured it out, so now he’s learned his lesson. Being chased after by werewolves in the woods, though? Obviously he shouldn’t go back, but… Well, maybe he hasn’t learned that lesson yet.

   Once Stiles has cleaned everything up he pads silently across the wooden floors, moving to the bedroom of his parents. His mother, Claudia, is very sick, and she’s been sick for a long time. He sighs from his spot in the doorway, watching from where she sleeps in more blankets than anybody normally would in the warmer months. Scott’s mother, Melissa, is the best healer in the entire city, and she stops by in the afternoons at least twice a week to check up on Claudia and make sure that she’s doing alright and still eating enough. Stiles still believes that she’s going to get better, he just wishes it would happen faster. He needs something to save her. Anything…

**XxX**

   “You did _what_?” Allison all but screeches after Scott has told her about his and Stiles’ adventure last night.

   Stiles rolls his eyes as Scott tries to calm her down, but it cuts off in the middle when he realizes that she’s yelling about not being invited. Honestly, she’s the perfect girlfriend (of nearly a year now) for Scott, but she really don’t understand the concept of “hi I’m Scott and I’m trying to protect you so no I am not inviting you into the woods to find a dead werewolf body”. Then again, she’s the best archer in the entire city after her mother, so they probably could have used her. But then she would have shot the wolf with the blue eyes and Stiles wouldn’t… Wouldn’t what? He doesn’t know.

   “Don’t you dare do it again,” Allison finally hisses. She and Scott do a lot of hissing when they communicate.

   “I won’t,” Scott says. “I promise.”

   She nods before turning her glare to Stiles. “You too. You know that we’d all die without you.”

   Stiles rolls his eyes, thinking of all his friends. A few tears here and there, maybe, but nothing too drastic.

   “Don’t roll your eyes at her,” Lydia says with a little glare from where she’s sitting in Jackson’s lap. “She’s right.”

   Stiles sighs, looking away from all of them. “I know she is.” _But I’m going back anyway_.

**XxX**

   Stiles finds himself sneaking along the Wall the very same night, another rope under his arm. Section eight was already under heavy patrol, but now seven is under a pretty tight watch as well, so Stiles stops in six instead. He doesn’t go down right away, he just…sits and watches.

   He’s not sure how long he’s there, staring up at stars and into dark woods, but it’s a long time—long enough for the blue eyed werewolf to poke itself out of the trees. Stiles perks up at the way he morphs up and into a man, somehow with all of those skins and furs and everything just popping out of thin air. It’s not much; just a pair of thin pants. The clothes that people wear inside the city aren’t exactly the same; they’ve got cloth now, and they wear a lot more of it even when it’s hot out.

   Stiles pulls in a very deep breath before doing a very stupid thing, as in crawling down from the Wall and straight into the jaws of the enemy. When Stiles turns around, the wolf is still just at the forest edge, but he drops back into his wolf form and slowly moves out of the trees.

   Stiles’ entire body is shaking. He leans against the Wall for support, but he can feel his heartbeat beating painfully against his chest. The werewolf in his wolf form is as tall as Stiles, and his black fur is short in the summer weather. He stops only a foot away, staring into Stiles’ eyes. And Stiles’ heart falls, because there are stars in those eyes, and they’re shimmering brighter than the ones in the sky.

   The wolf paws at the ground slightly before he drops with a tiny thud into a sitting position, and Stiles realizes that he’s supposed to sit as well. He’s a lot shorter down there, but somehow that’s alright.

   They just sit like that for a moment, but Stiles eventually finds the breath to speak: “You’re a werewolf,” he whispers.

   The wolf tilts his head.

   “Can you understand me?”

   He nods.

   Stiles finds himself smiling. “You’re not going to hurt me, are you?”

   The wolf leans closer at that, until Stiles can feel his breath. And then, with a little hum that Stiles can only call a purr, he darts out his tongue to lick against Stiles nose.

   Stiles laughs, wiping it away. “I’m Stiles, of the Stilinski’s. Do you have a name?”

   The wolf starts to nod, but there’s suddenly some very loud yelling a ways down the Wall. The wolf scatters, sprinting back into the woods.

   “Hey!” Stiles whisper-yells, sure that he can still be heard. “Hey, wait!” He jumps up and goes after him, straight into the woods.

   Big mistake.

   This wolf is bigger, with shaggy brown fur, but it’s got the same steel blue eyes. It growls from deep in its chest as it stalks slowly towards Stiles, absolutely no stars in these eyes.

   But then the black wolf is there, stopping between them. He snarls at the brown wolf, who growls once back before snapping its fangs Stiles’ direction and running off.

   Stiles lets out a relieved breath, watching his wolf morph up into his human form.

   “My name is Derek,” he says in perfect English. “Run.”

   Stiles frowns, beginning to back away towards the voices still shouting on the Wall. “I want to see you again.”

   The wolf—Derek—gives a crooked little smile. “You will. Come tomorrow, on the opposite side of where you found the human body.”

   “Section two?”

   Derek tilts his head a little. “Where?”

   Stiles shakes his head. “Never mind. The opposite side of eight. Deal.” And he runs, pulling himself up the Wall. There are patrolmen up top, scowling at him.

   “It _was_ you,” Chris of the Argent’s (and Allison’s father) says angrily. He’s the head of the night patrol. “Your father is going to have a heyday with you, Stiles.”

   Stiles doesn’t even care.

**XxX**

   After Stiles’ father found out that the rope thing was his son he put him on strict grounding—that Stiles, of course, gets around rather effortlessly. It’s easy getting around to section one when it’s eight, seven, and six that currently have the heaviest patrolmen. Stiles sees Derek standing in the trees the moment he gets there, so he quick sets up his way down. It’s the last good, strong, camouflaged rope he has left, so he _better_ not get caught or have to leave it this time. Then again, his father’s the one who keeps stuff like this under lock and key, so Stiles could easily get all three of them back without any exertion.

   When Stiles turns around this time, Derek is standing there, his hand held out. Stiles smiles and takes it, letting the wolf pull him into the woods. This is one of the dumbest things he’s ever done, but he’s never going to regret it.

   “Where are we going?” he asks, taking a few bigger steps so he’s beside Derek instead of behind him. They’re actually pretty close in height, though Derek is still a few inches taller.

   “A secret place,” Derek says quietly, pulling Stiles closer. “The other wolves don’t know about it. Quiet or they will.”

   Stiles gets the hint, following Derek in silence. He’s not really in the mood to be ripped in half like Matt was.

   Derek’s secret place ends up being a cave behind a waterfall, which amazes Stiles both for the cave and the water. He’s lived inside of a gigantic circular city his entire life. He’s never _seen_ a waterfall, only read about them and seen little pictures and some mini ones that people make inside the Wall.

   “I can’t see anything,” Stiles says once they’re behind the water (normally the sun would reflect in, but it is in fact nighttime). The falls drown out a lot of his voice, but he knows that Derek can still hear him with his wolf ears.

   Derek is silent for a moment before he pulls away from Stiles’ hand and tells him not to move, louder for Stiles’ human ears. A few moments later there’s a little flicker of orange, and Stiles sees that there’s a pile of sticks and small logs for a fire. He can see the rest of the cave inside, and he can see that there’s basically a little home. The fireplace, a cot with fur blankets, and a pile of very unused looking weapons.

   “Is this where you live?” Stiles asks, eyes adjusting to the dim light, slowly growing as Derek is feeding it from where he’s sitting crisscrossed beside it.

   He shakes his head no. “This is where I come to be alone. I live with many other of my kind.” He pats the spot beside him.

   Stiles smiles, moving to sit down beside him. He’s glad for the fire even though it’s the warmer months for a while longer. “How many of there are you?”

   He shrugs, poking at the fire with a stick. “Less than you.”

   “Are you all just one…um…”

   “Pack? Yes.”

   Stiles nods, reaching to take the stick and poke at the fire himself. “Who was the bigger brown wolf you protected me from?”

   Derek swallows tightly, dropping his hands to spread flat on the stone. “The brother of our alpha.”

   Stiles’ eyes widen. “Does that mean he’ll be the next alpha?”

   Derek shakes his head. “It’s more complicated than that.”

   “Tell me.”

   The wolves gives a tiny, warm smile. “No. Tell me why you came back.”

   Stiles frowns. “I wanted to see you.”

   He tilts his head. “Why?”

   Stiles purses his lips a little, looking into the fire. “You make me curious. You just…looked at me, like I wasn’t what you expected.” He looks up at the wolf; at Derek’s face, with the badly shaven almost-beard and the strongest jaw line that Stiles has ever seen. “Why didn’t you attack us?”

   Derek licks his lips, continuing to stare into Stiles’ own (and very boring brown) eyes. “Because we’re not afraid of you like you are of us.”

   Stiles ducks his head a little at that, staring into the fire. “We read about you in the histories, back before the Wall came up—back before I was born. Stories about turnings and mindless killings under the full moon.”

   “Those were the original of us. They weren’t born into it like those of us now. We know how to control it.”

   Stiles smiles up at him. “You’re not dangerous, then?”

   He shakes his head. “No, we are. Most of us are angry with you for casting us out so completely. If it was only your friend that night…”

   Stiles swallows, poking the fire some more. “Why didn’t you with me?”

   Derek gives that tiny smile. “You made me curious.”

   Stiles snorts. “What for? I mean, _you_ did because I had never seen a werewolf so close before, not to mention that you morphed into your human form right there. And…” He reaches up, tapping just to the side of Derek’s eye. “There are stars in them. They glow.”

   Derek reaches up to, catching s’ hand in his and weaving their fingers together before lowering them back to the stone. “We’re not different from you,” he says. “Our bodies just do…more. We talk the same and interact the same in our human forms. The only difference is the wolf.”

   Stiles nods, looking at their hands. “Why did I make you curious?”

   “I’ve never seen one of you so close either, you know. Not alive, anyway… The one that called himself Matt was killed by other wolves of the pack. It’s just that you’re all so afraid of us, too afraid to ever leave your city of seclusion. But _you_ did in a cloak as red as blood to come looking for a body. Wolves can hear heartbeats, and I could hear that you and your friends were both scared, but you were also…fascinated. Even when you were sprawled out on your back and your heart was speeding like our paws on the hunt, you still were. You saw me and you looked into my eyes and you never looked away. That’s why you made me curious.”

   Stiles smiles, poking the fire without looking. “We can learn about each other, then? What’s important to us?”

   Derek nods, taking the stick back. “Tell me about your city sections. It will be easier for me to know where you want us to meet.”

   They talk about the city for a long time, Stiles letting his words spill out without really thinking of any consequences. Until of course he does: “Why do you want to know about where I live?” he asks, maybe a little darkly.

   Derek smiles. A real smile, with perfect human teeth. Stiles doesn’t see a lot of perfect teeth, even in his city. “I want to hear your voice.”

   Stiles gives a good natured eye roll. “I could tell you a lot more interesting things than the city landscape if that’s all.”

   “Like what?”

   Stiles shrugs. “Favorite colors? Maybe not.”

   Derek nods. “Tell me.”

   “It’s not hard to guess.”

   “Red?”

   “Yes. Do you have one?”

   Derek grins, showing off teeth that are somehow sharper. “Red.”

   Stiles laughs, shoving at the wolf’s shoulder with his free hand. He almost forgot they were holding hands in the first place. They just melded together like they were meant to fill each others spaces. “You like blood, don’t you?”

   He nods. “I do.”

   “Not my blood, though.”

   He shakes his head. “I want to protect your blood.”

   Stiles is pretty sure that should sound weird, but it sort of just makes him blush and look down. “You’re kind of weird.”

   “To you, maybe, but not in my world.”

   “What is your world, anyway? A lot of hunting?”

   Derek shakes his head. “I stay by myself a lot. Here, where the water masks my scent.”

   “What do you eat?”

   He shrugs. “Whatever wanders in front of me.”

  Stiles wrinkles his nose up. “You’re a raw kind of guy, then.”

   He nods. “It’s a wolf thing, but I do appreciate a good carcass burnt over a fire every now and again.”

   Stiles snorts. “Please, you’ve never tasted anything until it’s Stilinski roasted.”

   Derek raises an eyebrow. “You roast?”

   “No, but my mother used to. You’d probably fall in love with her.”

   Derek nods, but his face has a sad look to it. “I’m sure she’s lovely.”

   Stiles is about to say that Derek can meet her, but… No, probably not. “Enough about relatives. Who’s the alpha? Is there only one?”

   Derek snorts. “There is only one, and it happens to be my own mother.”

   Stiles laughs uneasily. “Oh.”

   Derek smiles a little, but then he’s frowns a little at the fire. “It’s going out and I don’t have any new wood left. Werewolves can see in the dark, so I don’t usually need it.”

   Stiles decides that’s not a good thing. “I need to go.”

   Derek frowns. “The sun won’t come up for another two hours.”

   Stiles grins. “Well, in that case.”

   He’s not really expecting it, but Derek kisses him. It’s a soft kiss, and his free hand comes up to wrap around the back of Stiles’ neck. Stiles leans into him more, reaching up to wrap his own free arm around Derek’s neck.

   Derek pulls away a moment later, breathing heavy. “You should go.”

   Stiles is frowning this time, keeping his arms wrapped around the wolf’s neck. “Why?”

   “Because it’s late.”

   “You just said—”

   Derek kisses him again, but only for a second. “Because I don’t want to hurt you.”

   Stiles frowns again. “What do you mean?”

   “I’m a wolf, Stiles. It’s more instincts than with humans. I’m a wolf, and you’re a human; you’re so fragile compared to me.”

   Stiles laughs, pulling him in for another kiss. “So?” he asks afterwards.

   Derek shakes his head, pulling away again. “You don’t understand. We have claws and fangs that we use when feelings get too much for us, and while werewolves can heal right away at the slip of a claw, humans…don’t.”

   Stiles holds up the hand that Derek is still holding onto, looking at his fingers. “Show me.”

   Derek’s nails grow into claws before Stiles’ eyes, curling just over Stiles’ skin. The wolf leans down after that, nudging his nose against Stiles’ chin so that he looks up at the fangs there.

   “I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers, “but I could.”

   Stiles leans forward until their noses can bump. “We don’t have to do everything,” he whispers. “Slow. Practice.”

   So Derek kisses him, finally pulling his hands away from Stiles’ so he can wrap one around his waist and keep the other around the back of his neck. Stiles isn’t really sure when the fire goes out, but they eventually pull away to breathe and he sees that it’s very dark.

   “I never thought I would find a human so beautiful,” Derek whispers, rubbing his nose against Stiles’ jaw line. “I smell the human patrolmen all the time and I can’t stand the scents, but you…” He pulls away and his tongue suddenly dragging up the side of Stiles’ neck, causing Stiles to pull in the tiniest of gasps. “You’re divine. Everything about you.”

   Stiles gives a very manly (not really) giggle at that, dragging his hand down where Derek licked to dry it off. “You think _I’m_ attractive? Have you seen your reflection lately?”

   “I have, actually. I need to shave.”

   Stiles hums, pressing a kiss to where he knows Derek’s jaw line is. “I like it.”

   “Then I won’t.”

   “Good.”

   They don’t kiss for too much longer after that, mostly because Derek starts to push Stiles onto his back and then panics a little. Also because Stiles really does need to get home.

   “When can I see you again?” Derek asks, holding both of Stiles’ hands at where the rope is dangling.

   “Whenever you want,” Stiles says, smiling up at him. He can see better since the moon is actually giving them light when they’re not in a cave. The full moon was the very night before Stiles and Scott first ventured, so it’s going to be a long time before it’s full again.

   “Tomorrow night?”

   Stiles nods. “Tomorrow night. I’ve hardly gotten any sleep in the last three nights, though, so I might…” He gives a one-shouldered shrug. “Fall asleep on you.”

   Derek smiles brightly, and Stiles loves the way that those sparkling blue eyes crinkle. “I would love that.”

   Stiles kisses him goodbye before quick hauling himself up the Wall, and then he waves goodbye as Derek is morphing down into his wolf form. He starts to turn away to jump to the tree in section four and get back to his home in one, but he stops, because he swears he sees another set of glowing blue eyes in the woods… But there’s nothing there, so he shrugs and goes on his way, happier than he’s been in ages. He’s got a wolf and his camouflaged ropes and nobody knows it. Life is good.

**XxX**

   “You _what_?!” Scott screams—literally screams—in the middle of the courtyard, simple _yards_ from where all of Allison, Lydia, Jackson, Danny, Heather, and Danielle are sitting where they’re all eating lunch together.

   Stiles punches his best friend in the shoulder. “Shut up!”

   Scott rubs it, but he does look apologetic. “I deserved that,” he mumbles. “But…can you repeat what you said? Because _wow_.”

   “Promise to keep quiet?”

   He nods. “Quiet now _and_ I won’t tell Allison.”

   Stiles sighs. “I snuck over the Wall again.”

   “And you…?”

   “Saw that wolf again.”

   “And his name is…?”

   “Derek, son of the alpha.”

   “And he…?”

   “Kissed me.”

   Scott gives a very overdramatic groan. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

   “I’m not kidding.”

   “I know. It terrifies me.”

   Stiles can’t help but grin a little. “I didn’t change, Scott. He _likes_ me. He’s been _protecting_ me.”

   “He’s like…the prince of werewolves! That’s _insane_!”

   Stiles sighs, looking down. “I know, but I’m not going to stop.”

   “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

   “I know you know. Now what should we tell everyone about that you yelled at me for? Because Allison, Lydia, and Jackson are _going_ to think I went over the Wall again.”

   “I think we should just _tell_ them, but we won’t mention Derek.”

   Stiles huffs. “Fine.”

   Lydia yells the loudest.

**XxX**

   Stiles sneaks over in section two again, instantly taking Derek’s hand and running with him through the woods and behind the waterfall. Derek has extra wood set up now, and the fire is already going.

   “Here,” the wolf says, taking off Stiles’ cloak. He sits down behind him so that Stiles is between his legs. “I would warm your back with my fur, but I can’t talk to you as a wolf.”

   Stiles leans back against him as Derek wrap his arms around his waist. “That’s fine. I missed you.”

   Derek rests his cheek against the top of Stiles’ head. “I made you something.” He holds up a hand, showing off what’s very obviously a bracelet. It’s made of sinews and threads, with little beads of red and blue weaved into it.

   Stiles smiles, looking up at him. “You made this?”

   Derek nods. “The blue is for my eyes and the red for your cloak.”

   Stiles kisses the wolf’s cheek before taking the bracelet and putting it on. “I’ll have to make you something, too.”

   He shakes his head. “You can’t. The other wolves will smell the human on it.”

   Stiles sighs. “Shame.”

   The night passes swiftly after that, both with words and the occasional kissing break. Stiles tells Derek about some of the people in Beacon, like his parents (though he leaves out the fact that his mother is sick) and his best friend. Derek does in turn, mostly about his family. His mother—Talia, the alpha—is the only alpha in history that’s never been challenged. His uncle—Peter, the brown wolf with the blue eyes—is generally annoying, but he still manages to get along with everyone enough that they don’t just kill him. His youngest sister, Cora, is loud and takes pride in being obnoxious. And Laura, his oldest sister, is a strong, defiant woman that’s in line for the alpha if Talia dies of old age. He has friends, too, named Isaac, Erica, and Boyd, and sometimes they all sleep together in their wolf forms to stay warmer.

   “You’ve said that werewolves aren’t afraid of us like we are of you,” Stiles says. “Does that mean I could…meet any of them?”

   “I’m afraid that’s not a possibility,” a new voice says, and both Stiles and Derek snaps their heads up to see an older woman standing just at the entrance of the cave. She has long black hair and glowing red eyes, with a black cloak wrapped around her body. This is Talia—Derek’s mother—the alpha of the _entire_ werewolf pack.

   Derek scrambles into a standing position, Stiles getting up slowly after him. “Mother,” he says, honestly surprised.

   Talia stares at him intently, face almost emotionless. “You know what they will try to do to you, Derek. You know that they are trying to make it forbidden to be with a human.”

   Derek swallows tightly. “I know.”

   She breathes a breath that’s far too even. “Then you are also aware of what I must do to protect you?”

   Derek nods.

   She actually smiles at that, turning her look to Stiles. “So you are the one that Peter has seen with my son.”

   Stiles gives his very best smile. He’s determined to stay with Derek, possible law aside. He’s breaking his own, really. If anybody found out…exile, probably.

   “What is your name, child?”

   “My name is Stiles.”

   She tilts her head slightly. “Stiles of the Stilinski’s?”

   Stiles nods, though he wonders how she knows that. She explains before he can ask:

   “I know your father.”

   He frowns. “You’ve spoken to him?”

   She straightens her head and gives an amused look. “Talked? I was in my wolf form, so no. He was on one of your hunting parties and we mostly just communicated our dislike for each other in growls and glares.”

   Stiles ducks his head a little. “Oh.”

   Talia sighs the tiniest bit. “I am sorry, Derek. It is for your own protection. You know that Deucalion and his four will leave no humans alive. He will end up with the same fate as the exiled Matt.”

   Derek nods, eyes hard.

   Stiles frowns. He doesn’t know who Deucalion and “his four” are, but… “Aren’t you the alpha? Can’t you tell them not to hurt me?”

   Talia gives him a sad, sweet smile. “Alphas do not control everything, child. We control most of it, but not all of our betas like to follow every order that we give them. You humans have been afraid of us for too long now, so many of us do not want you any nearer to us than you want us to you. Maybe we are not afraid of you like you are of us, but that does not mean that we like you.” She gives an apologetic bow of the head. “They _will_ kill you, perhaps in an even worse way than they did your old friend Matt. They prey on the weak, testing to see if they are strong. You are human, Stiles. You are not strong.” She sweeps an arm out, holding it towards the waterfall. “You must go quickly, Derek. P tells me that they already know.”

   Derek unwraps his arm from Stiles and instead drops his hand to twin their fingers together, looking down at him. “We have to go.”

   Stiles’ heart breaks a little. “I don’t want to go.”

   Derek shakes his head, beginning to walk. “Hurry.”

   Stiles lets Derek pull him along, staring dead into Talia’s red eyes. She looks so sad. She doesn’t want this. But she’s protecting Stiles—she’s protecting Derek from the pain of losing Stiles to death and whatever else this Deucalion plans to do to him for being with Stiles. She loves her son.

   They’re both breathing heavy when they get to the Wall, but not from running.

   “Do I really have to go?” Stiles says, voice cracking.

   “Yes,” Derek chokes out.

   Stiles’ heart breaks the rest of the way. “No,” he says, grabbing onto Derek’s other hand and holding tight. “I can’t leave you, Derek. We’re perfect for each other and now we can’t be together? Who _cares_ what the others think?”

   “It’s what they’ll do, Stiles. They’ll _kill_ you. I can’t lose you.”

   “This _is_ losing me! I’m leaving! I can’t come back and we’re both still here, begging for me to!”

   Derek shakes his head, and before he says anything else he pushes Stiles up against the Wall and kisses him hard. Stiles lets go of Derek’s hands and scrambles for a hold anywhere on his body, finally settling for around his neck so he can swing up and wrap his legs around Derek’s waist. The wolf wraps his hands under Stiles to support him more, delving his tongue into his mouth and—

   There’s a deep growl, and Derek practically throws Stiles to the ground as he spins around, snarling at where a large grey wolf is currently walking out of the woods. There are four other wolves simply poking their heads out, practically _grinning_ at the panic in Stiles and Derek’s eyes.

   “Derek,” Stiles hisses. “Derek, hoist me up.”

   He can say more goodbyes from on top of the Wall. Currently, though, he doesn’t want to die.

   Derek bends down so that Stiles can scramble onto his back, and then even further to stand up on his shoulders and be higher up the rope before he starts climbing. None of the five wolves try to run after him, but he’s still in a bit of a panic at all of the hatred in one section. There are hardly any patrolmen around here…none of them notice the disturbance because it’s such a calm one.

   When Stiles turns around the big grey wolf is now a man, and Stiles instantly knows that he’s Deucalion, with milky white eyes and prickly fur along his cheeks. “A wise move, human. If you had stayed you may have been…ripped apart.”

   Derek growls a little bit, but all Stiles gets to do is glare. The four other wolves are just staring, every last one of them with the same steel blue eyes. Stiles wonders what the significance of color is… He never asked. All he knows is that alphas have red eyes, but betas can have yellow or blue. There’s a lean black wolf, a large dark brown one, and two dirty blonde ones between the sizes of the black and brown.

   “Derek,” Stiles says, leaning over the edge. “Derek, please.”

   Derek looks up at him, eyes sad. “Don’t ever stop watching the stars.”

   Stiles frowns. “I don’t under—”

   “Goodbye, Stiles.” Derek morphs down into his wolf form and runs away before anything else can be said, disappearing between the two sandy wolves.

   Deucalion feigns a very sad sigh. “Ah yes, young love. Stiles, isn’t it?”

   Stiles glares at him. “You really are a monster.”

   He laughs, beginning to walk backwards towards the woods. “Who’s the monster, Stiles? Is it us, or the ones that created us?”

   And then he’s going as well, dropping into his brown wolf form and running into the woods. The other five give odd little sounds that Stiles swears is laughter before running after him, and then Stiles is alone. Even the patrolmen didn’t notice anything. So Stiles just turns around and sits, leaning against the stone “railings” and doing everything he can to breathe.

   He’s gone. Derek is gone. Stiles only got three days with him, and now he’s _gone_.

   Stiles forces himself to get up and walk, not even trying to hide himself as he walks passed everyone. They glare at him and his rope, but he just ignores them, moving to the tree so that he can get down. He walks home almost mindlessly, and he doesn’t even try to keep quiet as he walks inside.

   Patrick shoves his bedroom door open and quickly closes it so he doesn’t wake Claudia. “You’re not serious. You snuck out _again_? You know that you’re grounded!”

   “It doesn’t matter,” Stiles says, shoving the rope into his father’s arms. “I’m never going back.” He ignores his father’s questions as he stomps into his room, shoving the door shut. He lets out a deep breath and drops face first onto his bed.

   As expected, Patrick opens up his door. “Stiles, are you… What happened?”

   Stiles waves a hand at him. “Relationship problems,” he mumbles into his pillow; he’s not even sure his father hears him. “It’s not important.”

   “It is important, son. You snuck out while you were grounded and just gave me your last means of escape.”

   Stiles nods.

   “Why?”

   Stiles rolls over so that he can kick his shoes off. “I gave up, father.”

   He blinks a lot. “ _Why_?”

   Stiles sighs, curling up under his covers. “Because I have nothing left to escape to.”

   Patrick simply nods at that, closing the door behind him. So Stiles is alone again, continuing to breathe. Maybe he’ll just spend his nights up on the Wall, staring up at the stars and down at the forest of Hills. He’s got nothing better to do. Maybe he’ll invite his friends, too. The residential sections never have enough patrolmen to get them in trouble. They’ll just let them sit there.

   They’ll simply survive.


	2. Part II: Sparks

_“Wish upon a star,” they said._   
_“And all your dreams will come true.”_   
_“Any star?” I asked. They smiled._   
_“Yes, any star will do.”_

  
_I thought about a wish to make_  
 _And turned to see the view_  
 _But all that I could think to wish_  
 _Was just to be with you._  
  
 _So close my eye and wish I did._  
 _And as the night turned blue_  
 _The wish star fell, and so did I…_  
 _Our dancing love renewed._  
—Unknown—

_3 DAYS LATER…_

   “Stiles, what’s up with you?” Jackson says, shoving at his shoulder. “You haven’t laughed in, like, two days.”

   Stiles glares at him a little, but Scott does most of it for him. “Lay off, Jackson. Even Stiles can be in a bad mood sometimes.”

   Jackson shrugs. “Whatever, I just wanted to know if he was going to drink his juice or not.”

   Stiles sighs, shoving it towards him. “You can have it.”

   He grins, snatching it up and walking away without thanks.

   Scott sighs as well, sitting closer to his best friend. “Can’t you just go make out with Heather or something?”

   “I already tried that,” Stiles mutters, looking down at his lap. “She told me that I smelt like dirt.”

   “Even after you bathed?”

   “Even after I bathed.”

   “That’s rude,” Allison says, waving a carrot at him.

   Stiles shrugs. “It’s probably true.”

   “I don’t think you smell like dirt,” Danny says, plopping down beside him.

   Stiles rolls his eyes. “Thanks.”

   Danny tilts his head a little. “What’s up, man? Jackson’s right. You really haven’t laughed at all.”

   “Relationship problems,” Allison says, flitting a wrist. “It’s not important.”

   Stiles groans, standing up and walking away from all of them. He loves his friends, but good lord.

   He just keeps walking until he gets home, pulling in a deep breath of relief now that he’s somewhere nobody will—

   “Stiles.”

   Stiles lets the breath back out in a sigh, turning around to follow his mother’s voice into where she’s sitting up on her bed. “Yes?”

   She pats where Patrick usually sleeps. “Would you join me for a little while?”

   Stiles nods, moving to crawl up beside her. “Are you feeling well?”

   She nods. “Well enough. You’ve been down lately, Stiles. Your father tells me…relationship problems?”

   Ah, so he did hear… Stiles mashes his lips together and looks away.

   She reaches a hand up to rest on his back. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

   Stiles frowns. “Why would father hurt me?”

   She shakes her head, a tiny glint of amusement in her eyes. “Not him, the relationship.”

   Stiles frowns deeper. “Why do you think it’s a he?”

   Her next look is almost condescending. “Darling, please. Mother’s know things. Did he hurt you?”

   Stiles shakes his head, looking away again. “He didn’t do anything. His family split us up.”

   She sighs. “Families do that when they think they know what’s best.”

   Stiles looks back up at her. “The problem is that it probably is best.”

   She gives him a small, sad smile. “I’m sorry, Stiles. Do you want to talk about it?”

   He shakes his head, moving to stand. “I just want to take a nap.”

   She kisses him once on the cheek before letting him go, a broken look buried into her eyes. Stiles feels terrible. His mother is hurting enough; she doesn’t need Stiles’ feelings with them.

**XxX**

   Stiles is technically still grounded, but neither of his parents stopped him from leaving when he walks passed where they’re eating in their bedroom (they do that so Claudia doesn’t have to get up). Best as it maybe was for Derek and Stiles to be split apart, Stiles is currently pulling himself up the trunk of the tree and hopping onto the Wall. He’s not going to go down, but…he just wants to see the trees.

   He sighs (he’s done a whole lot of that these last few days), leaning against the edge of the Wall and looking up at the sky. The moon is behind him, three days from being full. The forest just looks so…bare.

   “Stiles?”

   Stiles looks up to see Kate Argent (AKA Chris’s sister, but Stiles isn’t sure if she’s older or younger). “Hi,” he says in greeting.

   She raises an eyebrow. “You’re not, uh, plannin’ on sneakin’ out again, are yuh?”

   He shakes his head. “No,” he says. “I’m just sulking.”

   She gives a sad little smile. “You’re the talk of the entire patrol, Stiles. What’s gotten into you? What did you find out there that’s so much better than what we’ve got in here?”

   Stiles is not about to tell Kate the truth. The Argent’s detest werewolves more than any other family in the entire city because they’ve personally lost more family members to them (including Alexander, who was her and Chris’ grandfather that they were very close to), and while Kate can be that cuddly kitten and ask what’s wrong, she’s a lioness the moment you say the wrong thing.

   “Scott and I first went out for the body, you know? But I…” He sighs. “There was this waterfall and a cave behind it that hides my scent. I know you’ll probably tell my father, but I’ve seen wolves just through that water, but they’ve never seen me. I’ve been close enough to _touch_ them, Kate. You know I’m planning on joining the patrol as soon as I turn eighteen, so I guess my idiotic adventure side got the best of me.” He shrugs. “I’m impatient.”

   Obviously he didn’t say anything wrong, because Kate just smiles. “That _is_ your idiotic adventure side coming out, but I promise I won’t tell your father if you promise you won’t do it again. It’s dangerous out there, Stiles. Those wolves will rip you in half just like they did Matt.”

   Stiles nods, looking up at the sky again. “I know they will.” And they will. Some of them, anyway. “I _know_ it, but I can’t promise you anything.”

   She gives another sad smile. “I’d ask if you could promise to wait until you were eighteen, but that’s almost a year away, isn’t it?”

   He nods. “Seven months.”

   She sighs. “I still won’t tell Patrick, but you know I’m going to have to keep an extra close eye on you now.”

   He nods without looking at her. “It’s okay, my father probably already has people on me anyway. He didn’t even try and stop me when I walked out, so that’s the only explanation.”

   She chuckles. “You’re a smart kid, you know?”

   Stiles gives her a cocked eyebrow. “He asked you to do it, didn’t he?”

   She grins a little. “Yeah, but I told him not to count on me all the time.” She shrugs, beginning to walk passed him. “Keep up the good work, kid.”

   Stiles frowns. “Good work?”

   “The good work in which you’re staying up here and not getting anymore idiotic ideas.”

   He smiles a little. “I’ll do my best.”

**XxX**

   Stiles goes back the next night, this time not seeing Kate anywhere at all. He sighs, looking out at the woods.

   “Stiles.”

   Stiles looks behind him just like he did last night, but nobody is there. He frowns, turning all around him. But nobody is there at all. Stiles can’t even see the closest patrolman from where he’s standing.

   “Stiles.”

   Stiles’ heart skips a beat. The voice is coming from below him. He leans over the wall and stares straight down, nearly falling over it completely when he sees that Derek is looking up at him from the bottom.

   The wolf smiles up at him in his human form, eyes glowing blue. “Hello.”

   Stiles breathes a laugh. “Hello yourself.”

   “I saw you yesterday, but the one you called Kate kept watching you.”

   Stiles nods. “My father set her up. Is anyone watching you?”

   He shakes his head. “I’ve been here since the first night, but Deucalion and his four haven’t been around. I’d be able to smell them. They all smell terrible.”

   Stiles bites his bottom lip. “Derek, I need you.”

   Derek lets out a little whine. “You can’t, Stiles.”

   “You said they’re not here. Just a kiss. Please.”

   Derek sighs deeply, looking around him. “Stiles, it’s dangerous.”

   “I know. We’ll stay by the Wall. _Please_.”

   Stiles practically whoops when Derek nods. It only takes seconds to hook the rope up (he stole one from his dad, not actually intending on using it, but it made him feel better), and even less to basically just jump to the bottom and into Derek’s outstretched arms. The wolf kisses him that way, holding him tight. Stiles throws his arms around his neck and holds him closer, swinging his legs around to wrap around his waist.

   “Okay,” Derek nearly gasps, pulling away. “Back up you go.”

   Stiles shakes his head.

   Derek gives an exasperated look. “Stiles, you promised.”

   “I did no such thing.” He tries to kiss him again, but Derek pulls away.

   “ _Stiles_.”

   “ _Derek_ ,” Stiles says back, leaning closer.

   Derek kisses him back this time, eyes sad before they drift tightly shut and he presses Stiles harder against the wall.

   “I want you,” Stiles whispers against his lips. “I need you.”

   “Stiles, we—”

   “Just this once and I’ll never come back. We’ll stay away from the Wall and we’ll forget about each other forever.”

   “But you’re going to join the patrol!”

   “I’ll join strict night patrol. They don’t go out with the hunting parties.”

   Derek gives an aggravated sigh. “You could _die_.”

   “It’s worth it, just for this once.”

   Derek stares at him angrily for a while, eyes slowly glowing a brighter and brighter blue.

   Stiles reaches a hand up and rests it against Derek’s cheek. “What do the different colors of eyes, mean?”

   Derek huffs before kissing Stiles hard. “Okay,” he says. “Okay, but just this once. We can do it if you never come back. We can forget each other.”

   Stiles nods as Derek sets him down. “But will you—”

   “I’ll still tell you, but stop talking for a second. I need to scent you so your smell is even less potent.”

   “How do you—”

   Stiles suddenly finds himself on his back, Derek kneeling over him and burying his face into the crook of Stiles’ neck. His hands move as well, rubbing over Stiles’ entire body. “I’m covering yours up with my own scent,” he says as he pays particularly close attention to Stiles’ main arteries. “It’s your blood that we can smell and I need to block it out.”

   When Derek pulls away he instantly shifts into his wolf form, and Stiles knows to crawl onto his back and hold on for his life before Derek takes off toward the waterfall at a sprint.

   “You know that red eyes are for the alpha,” Derek says the moment that he morphs back into his human form. There’s no fire going this time, but Stiles expected that. The only problem is that he can’t see a thing, but Derek is holding onto both of his hands, so it’s okay. “Yellow is the standard werewolf color,” he says as he pulls Stiles in the direction that he knows the cot is, “but blue is… It’s when you’ve killed someone who didn’t deserve it.”

   Stiles tilts his head, knowing that Derek can see it. “Why did you kill someone?”

   “It was my best friend. She was in pain. She was going to die anyway, so I…I killed her so she wouldn’t have to keep being so hurt.”

   Stiles fumbles to pull Derek closer to him. “I think that’s a good reason.”

   Derek kisses him lightly, one hand wrapped against one of Stiles’ hips and the other around the back of his neck. Stiles’ hands are both on the sides of Derek’s face, holding him tightly there even though he knows Derek could pull away without even trying. Derek doesn’t, though. He simply gets Stiles down on his back against the cot, slowly kissing away from his mouth and down his neck. Derek is just wearing those pants made of skins, so Stiles takes that time to reach his hands down and undo the laces holding them up. Derek moves to work at Stiles’ clothes as well after the laces are undone, undoing his cloak and pushing up his shirt while Stiles kicks off his boots and undoes the laces of his own pants.

   When both of them are completely bare there, Stiles feels one of Derek’s hands begin to slip down the side of his body during a kiss.

   “I wish I could see you,” Stiles whispers when Derek pulls his mouth away. He can hear the way he’s coating a finger in saliva, but he can’t _see_.

   “You can in a minute,” he whispers.

   Stiles knits his eyebrows together. “How?”

   Derek’s eyes suddenly shine that bright, gorgeous, deadly blue, and it’s like someone lit candles in them. They shine down over Stiles’ chest, and when Derek looks up to stare right into Stiles’ eyes it doesn’t blind him. It’s simply like looking into a blue flame, hungry for more.

   “That’s amazing,” Stiles whispers, reaching a hand back up to rest against his cheek. “Why didn’t you show me before?”

   “I was afraid you would ask why they were blue.”

   Stiles smiles warmly up at him. “I still love you.”

   “I know,” Derek whispers, his other hand slipping down Stiles’ thigh. “I’m sorry.”

   Stiles kisses him as he pushes that saliva slicked finger in, letting Derek swallows his gasps. It’s like a dream after that… Stiles tries to be quiet. He really does. But Derek keeps kissing him and whispering that he loves him and that he’s sorry and between all of that he’s giving breathy little moans into Stiles’ ears and he just can’t help but let Derek’s eyes shine down between them so that they can watch him slip in and out and—

   Stiles yanks Derek down to cry out into his shoulder as he spills between them, and something about it must push Derek over the edge as well, because he’s stalling his hips with one last thrust inside and moaning into the crook of Stiles’ shoulder just as hard.

   They stay like that for a second, letting their breathing get back to normal.

   “I’m sorry,” Derek whispers again, blue still shining bright.

   Stiles starts to shake his head, but instead he just gives a tiny little smile and whispers, “I forgive you.”

   Derek’s eyes go out as they’re cleaning themselves up and getting dressed, but it’s as Stiles is lacing up his last boot that they snap on like a blazing inferno. “Stiles,” he whispers.

   Stiles decides to leave his second boot unlaced, diving towards Derek as he morphs down into his wolf form. He jumps on and holds on tight, and he starts to stalk very, very slowly towards the cascading water.

   “Is it Deucalion?” Stiles whispers.

   Derek nods.

   “Are you going to run me to the Wall?”

   Another nod.

   And then Derek is diving around the water, just barely avoiding its spray. There are multiple snarls around them, Derek bolting passed them all. Stiles counts all five of the wolves from before.

   When the Wall comes into view, the five are still hot on Derek’s tail.

   “They’re too close!” Stiles yells. “We can’t stop!”

   So Derek does the unexpected: he jumps, morphing into his human form in midair, and grabs a hold of the rope as he slams against the stones. Stiles scrambles to hold onto his back as Derek practically runs up the side of the Wall, pulling the rope up after him. The other wolves snarl up at them when they can’t jump after them, causing the few patrolmen around to go crazy.

   “You _traitor_!” the black wolf spits, morphed into a woman with long black hair like Talia, but she’s much younger.

   “Now, now, Kali,” Deucalion says. “Wouldn’t _you_ do the same for love?”

   Stiles and Derek don’t have anymore time to listen to them. Stiles tells Derek to run, so he morphs back into his four-legged counterpart and literally leaps off the other side of the Wall. He lands then just keeps running, following Stiles’ directions to his home.

   “Scott always hides here,” Stiles whispers, shoving his bed across the floor to reveal a cellar door. “We made it years ago. My father’s never found it before.”

   Derek morphs into a human and kisses Stiles hard.

   Stiles smiles when he pulls away. “You’ve protected me, so now it’s my turn to protect you.”

   Derek swallows tightly. “I love you.”

   Stiles smiles wider. “I love you too. Hurry up.”

   Stiles has the bed back and is pretending to be asleep in less than five minutes, which is good, because that’s when his father bursts in.

   “Tell me they’re lying,” he says, sad and tired and angry and…disappointed.

   Stiles groans, rolling over. “Huh?”

   Patrick sighs, dropping his head into his hands. “You really did it. You brought a wolf inside.” He drops his hands. “Stiles, you _know_ the punishment! Do you _want_ to be exiled? Do you want to ensure the death of whatever friendship you think you have with a _monster_?”

   Stiles blinks a lot. “Huh?”

   “Dammit, Stiles!”

   “Don’t yell, Patrick.”

   He falls silent as Claudia moves slowly into the room, moving until she sits on the bed.

   “Please don’t yell,” she whispers again.

   Stiles knows he can’t lie anymore. “Mother, I’m sorry, I—”

   “I want to meet him.”

   Stiles and Patrick gape at her before Patrick speaks: “Honey, it’s _dangerous_!”

   Claudia flits her wrist. “I will not be kept from the lover of my son.”

   Stiles blushes furiously and refuses to meet his father’s eyes. “How do you know that this is who I was talking about?”

   She smiles. “Why else would you risk your life to be together?”

   Stiles sighs, finally looking at his father. “Promise you won’t hurt him?”

   Patrick looks like he wants to hurt _Stiles_. “I promise—but only for your mother.”

   Stiles nods. “Derek, I know you can hear me. One knock if no, two knocks if you’re okay with this. You can hear heartbeats, right? You know if anyone is lying.”

   Derek is silent for a moment before there comes two knocks.

   Stiles sighs, mostly just because he has to give up his hiding place. He tells his mother to move, and very carefully goes about getting Derek out from under his house. He comes out in his wolf form, weary and tentative at Patrick’s wide-eyed glare and Claudia’s warm little smile. He curls up behind Stiles (he’s so damn big) and nuzzles Stiles’ side.

   “It’s okay,” Stiles says, patting the top of his head. “If they were going to hurt you they would have already done it.”

   So Derek morphs into his human form, staying there behind Stiles and obviously trying really hard not to glare with those beautiful blue eyes of his.

   “This is Derek,” Stiles says, putting one of his hands behind his back so that Derek can hold onto it. “He’s, uh… He’s mine.”

   Patrick lets out a gigantic sigh, dropping his head into one hand. “Stiles…”

   “I think he looks lovely,” Claudia whispers, sitting back down on the bed. She looks so tired. Stiles feels terrible. If it wasn’t for him she wouldn’t have gotten out of bed at all.

   Stiles notices Derek’s eyes widen in his peripheral vision. “You’re sick,” he says. He starts to move towards her, but Patrick steps between them with a glare. Derek bares his teeth a little, so Stiles quick steps between both of them again and pushes his father away.

   “He’s not going to hurt her,” he says. Then, looking back at Derek: “What are you going to do?”

   Derek swallows tightly, staring straight into Claudia’s eyes. “Werewolves can do more than turn into things that you call monsters,” he says. “We can take away your pain. All I need to do is touch you.”

   Stiles and Claudia both give quizzical looks, but Patrick looks furious. “You’re not touching her!” he growls (a sound that used to frighten Stiles, but after knowing wolves it’s like a tiny little dog yapping in the middle of the night and is just annoying). “You’re not—”

   “Honey.”

   He falls silent, glaring down at Claudia. “He’s _not_ going to touch you.”

   “ _He’s not a monster, Patrick_ ,” she hisses. Stiles has heard some of those, too, but he’s definitely still scared of the way his mother is doing it. His mother _never_ gets angry… “You’ve _made_ him a monster—you’ve made _all_ of them monsters. If they were monsters they wouldn’t let you hunt in their land, would they?”

   “It’s not _their_ land, it’s—”

   “It’s the land you trapped them in! Get out or stop talking, and I swear to god if you get out and tell them where he is I will never speak to you again.”

   Patrick lets out a deep, somehow steady breath. “Claudia, I’m sorry, I—”

   “Do not yet deserve an apology. Lean against that wall and shut up.” She looks back at Stiles and Derek. “Where we were?”

   Stiles looks up at Derek and nods, as curious as his mother is about what’s going to happen. Derek moves tentatively, sitting a good foot away from her on the bed. “Give me your arm,” he whispers.

   She holds her arm out, and Derek takes lightly a hold of her wrist before squeezing just a little bit tighter. All three of them stare with wide eyes as the veins in Derek’s arms begin to bulge with black, pulling into his skin and disappearing the farther up it goes. Claudia gives a relieved sigh when he pulls away, staring down at her arm.

   “How did you do that?” she whispers.

   “Like I said,” Derek says, standing up. “We’re not just monsters.”

   Stiles holds his hand out so that Derek can step back behind him, taking a hand again.

   Patrick swallows tightly, looking from his wife to Stiles’ lover. “I was taught to hate you from the beginning,” he says, “and many a time your kind has proven to me that that’s the right thing to do. We find our dead bodies in the woods because of your attacks.”

   “You find your dead bodies in the woods because _you’ve_ attacked us _first_ ,” Derek snaps. Stiles squeezes his hand a bit to keep him grounded. “It wasn’t the pack that killed that boy in section eight, but five inside of the pack that aren’t all for listening to directions. We’ve got nowhere to exile anyone like you do, so we just have to keep putting up with them—we don’t _kill_ our kind either unless they’ve killed one of us. We were monsters—back, at the very beginning, I admit that we were—but now we’re not because we’re all _born_ as werewolves and know how to control it. All of you are basing your hatred on the histories written hundreds of thousands of years ago. We don’t hate you because we want to hurt you, we hate you because _you_ really _do_ hurt _us_.”

   “And what do you want _me_ to do about it?” Patrick says loudly, angrily. “I’m just one man in an entire city that’s all for the destruction of every last one of you! I don’t trust you enough to go out and tell everyone that I just had a conversation with my son’s werewolf lover who also happened to take away the pain in my wife! I can’t do that when I only know you, and I can’t go into the forest without the rest of the patrol if you say those rouge wolves are out there to kill any human that ventures into it. It’s not that simple.”

   “I can set up a meeting,” Derek says. “You can stay up on the Wall and I can bring our wolves right to the bottom of it. Your patrols aren’t heavy around the entire thing or else I never would have met Stiles in the first place. It would be easy.”

   Patrick gives another angry sigh. “It’s _not_ that easy.”

   “Yes it is,” Stiles grits out. “You just don’t want to. You _want_ to keep fighting with them when it’s completely pointless. Think about it, father! Think about what it would mean to be able to take the Wall down completely! At the very least to put in a gate and let in the ones that we _do_ trust… You _know_ we should do it, you’re just scared. You shouldn’t be scared; you’re a patrolman! You’re the _head_ patrolman! Why are you being such a bigoted coward?”

   Patrick blinks at Stiles for a long, long time, and eventually it’s Claudia that speaks for him: “We never told you,” she whispers. “All for of your grandparents had access to the forest of Hills. Your father’s parents were on the patrol, and my parents were in the hunting party. All four of them were killed by werewolves before we were eighteen. That’s how we met.”

   Stiles gapes a little, taking a step back and stumbling into Derek with the same sad, wide eyes. “I didn’t know,” he says.

   “I’m sorry,” Derek says, squeezing tighter to Stiles’ hand. “I know we’ve killed some of you. But you’ve killed some of us, too… It’s an eye for an eye. If we don’t fix it now it’s only going to get worse.”

   Patrick blinks at Derek now, and then he nods. “You’re right,” he says. “You’re completely right.”

   Stiles watches in awe as every last drop of fear drains completely out of his father’s body. He steps away from the wall of Stiles’ room and stands with spread legs, crossed arms, and defiant eyes. “We’re going to do this, and we’re going to do it before anybody else gets hurt. But not tonight, because tonight the entire city is going to be combed from top to bottom.” He looks straight at Derek. “Derek, we need to get you back under Stiles’ bed.” He gives Stiles a hard look. “This is where you hid Scott, isn’t it?”

   Stiles sighs. “Yes.”

   He shakes his head. “A conversation for another time. We need you down there and Stiles and Claudia need to get back into bed. I’ve got to lie to everyone that you’re not here, Derek. You better keep giving me reasons to trust you.”

   Derek nods fervently, eyes shining brighter with their blue. “I’ll never stop.”

   “Good.” He holds a hand out to Claudia. “Come on, we’ve got to get you into bed before anybody comes in.”

   As soon as they leave Stiles’ room, Stiles spins around to kiss Derek hard. “You are the most amazing thing in the entire world,” he whispers.

   Derek lets out a heavy breath. “I should be running. I’d get out of here if I just ran.”

   “No, you have to stay. My father knows this place like the back of his hand; you have to trust him. Quick, get in before Chris and his team get in here.”

   “Who?” Derek asks as he starts to crawl into the hole beneath Stiles’ bed.

   “Kate’s brother. He’s not quite as ruthless, but Kate’s on his team, so it doesn’t really matter.”

   Derek nods, and he morphs into his wolf form as Stiles closes him in. He quick drags his bed back over and then hops into it, pretending to be asleep. It gets pretty loud outside, but eventually it all fades away, and pretending to sleep turns into something real.

**XxX**

   Stiles wakes up because his father is shaking him, and he looks out the window to see that it’s light out now.

   “I got some people together,” he says as soon as Stiles looks at him. “I didn’t tell them about Derek being here, just that you’re insane and managed to get some wolves into the idea of a meeting. I’ve got all the patrol times down, so I know how to get Derek passed everyone with that tree you always climb up—don’t give me that look, everybody knows about it, we just haven’t gotten around to taking it down. Anyway, you’ve got to make sure that Derek does _exactly_ what I say, okay? Do you think he’ll trust me enough for that?”

   Stiles stretches. “Derek, you up? What do you think?”

   Two knocks come from under the bed, so Stiles nods.

   Patrick lets out a deep breath. “Good, because it’s not going to be fun. He’ll get his others when he gets out, right? Does he really think they’ll come? Because it’s going to be really awkward when none of them show up at the time everyone agreed to.”

   Derek knocks twice more.

   Stiles smiles at his father while he reaches around for normal clothes. “Fear no more.”

   Patrick lets out another deep breath. “I’m just afraid that they’re going to catch him when I try and get him out of here.”

   Stiles grins broader. “I trust you, father. Thanks.”

   Patrick gives a good natured eye roll. “You’re welcome. I’m not sure how I’m going to look any of the other wolves in the face, though.”

   Derek knocks three times.

   Stiles frowns. “Do you want out or something?”

   Two knocks.

   “You’ll have to at least stay under the bed as a wolf during the day in case anybody looks through a window, okay?”

   Two more knocks.

   “Okay, just a second.” His father helps him shove the bed aside before Stiles opens it up, letting Derek crawl out in his human form.

   “You might not have to talk to them at all,” Derek says as they pull the bed back. “They’ll probably want to stay in their wolf forms. They’ll be able to understand you, but I’ll interpret for them.”

   “That’s a good idea,” Stiles says, shoving an extra blanket underneath the bed. It’s just barely big enough for Stiles to fit under, so Derek only will as a wolf. “What about Deucalion and his four? Will they be there?”

   “They’ll probably hide in the trees,” Derek says, sitting on the floor beside the bed. “If they do come out, though, they’ll blend in with the others since you’re the only one who knows how to tell the difference. Those five, Peter, and I are the only ones with blue eyes.”

   Stiles nods, looking up at his father. “What time is it going to be? I want to be there.”

   Patrick starts to protest, but Derek pipes in: “He’s the one who started all of this. He should be there.”

   Patrick sighs. “I know, I just don’t want him to get hurt.”

   “I’ll be up on the Wall with the others, father. I’ll be safe. Who did you get together.”

   “People who won’t change their minds in the middle of the whole thing and let loose some arrows.

   Stiles raises an eyebrow. “So…no Argent’s?”

   “ _None_.”

   Derek growls a little bit. “Gerard Argent killed my father, so that sits fine with me.”

   Stiles nods. “Probably with those you’ll bring as well. Under the bed, now; you can cuddle with the blanket.”

   Derek nods, kissing his cheek before morphing down into his wolf form and shuffling under the bed.

   Patrick taps Stiles’ shoulder. “A quick word, son?”

   Stiles looks down. “That okay, Derek?”

   Derek sticks out a paw and taps twice.

   So Stiles follows his father out and into the front room, taking a seat on the pillows on the floor.

   “I just want to know how this whole thing started,” Patrick says. “Why you went out there and who with and why you _went back_.”

   Stiles sighs a little, looking down at his lap. “Scott and I went out because we heard about the body, so we found out that it was Matt after he was exiled. Derek was just…he was right there, staring at us as a wolf. Scott and I were frozen there, whispering that we were going to die, but instead of attacking us he stood up in his human form and just stared right back. He ran away at a howl, though, so Scott and I sprinted to get over the Wall.”

   Patrick frowns. “He didn’t attack you? Why not?”

   “Because _I_ was there. He told me that he was curious. I was too, and that’s why I went back. I wanted to know why he just looked back at us. I know now that it’s because they’re not mindless monsters, but that they have the same minds as we do. There are evil ones and peaceful ones. I met his mother, you know. She’s the alpha.”

   Patrick’s eyes bulge. “You met _the_ alpha?”

   He nods. “She’s the only one. She was nice; didn’t attack me, and warned me about the ones who would. I was with Derek at the time. He’s always protected me from the _real_ monsters—the evil werewolves. He wasn’t going to let me back down, but I convinced him and now we’re here in this mess. The only way to keep me alive was to climb up with me because I was riding on the back of his wolf form.”

   “But why didn’t he just jump back down?”

   “Bringing in humans is just as traitorous to those five evil wolves as bringing a wolf in here. They probably would have attacked him as well. Not to death since he’s the son of the alpha, but he wouldn’t have walked away without a few puddles of blood around. I brought him here because I knew he would be safe. You’ve never found Scott there, so nobody would have found him either.”

   Patrick sighs again. “Stupid as it was, it was the right thing to do. Your mother is very proud of you. Now, I don’t want you to follow Derek and I when I bring him to the Wall at nightfall, okay. The meeting is set at midnight, so meet in section four at that time.”

   Stiles sighs a little. “Do you _have_ to take the tree down?”

   “Stiles, if this all goes to hell you’re not going to get to stay inside of the Wall anyway—but if it _does_ work, we’ll be able to put in that gate and you still need to use it.” He shrugs. “It’s going to be a hard thing to convince, but step one was getting people to go to the Wall at all. It’s all up to Derek after that…”

   Stiles pulls in a deep breath. “He’ll do it. I know he will.”

   Patrick nods. “Good, because of all the wolves I’ve ever met I like him the most.”

   Stiles knows that doesn’t really mean anything since he doesn’t know any other wolves, but he smiles anyway.

**XxX**

   Stiles stayed out of contact with his friends all day, moving back and forth between his room and his parents’ room when making food for Derek and his mother. Usually Patrick comes back for meals, but today he’s got to pretend he doesn’t know where the wolf is and convince people to look elsewhere than his home.

   When the nightfall comes the patrols are heavier, but Patrick shows up as promised to get safely out of there. It’s still two hours until midnight, so Stiles spends it freaking out while his mother is trying to calm him down and then instantly running out to get section to four _right_ at midnight.

   He reaches the top of the stairs without resistance now, coming onto the Wall to see a handful of patrolmen, knowing some and not others. His father sees him right away, motioning him over to where he’s standing in the middle of the line with Robert of the Finstock’s and Rafael of the McCall’s, who happens to be Scott’s _ex_ -father.

   “Have they shown up yet?” Stiles asks as he gets to them.

   “Not yet,” his father says.

   “And we’re getting _restless_ ,” Finstock says, that usual crazed look in his eyes. “They’re officially late.”

   “Calm down, Bobby,” Rafael says. “You’ll scare them away.”

   “Nothing scares us away.”

   Stiles grins, leaning over the edge of the Wall to at least _feel_ close to Derek as he’s walking out of the woods. He’s alone, though. “They’re coming?” he asks.

   Derek nods, walking straight up to the Wall in his human form. He looks fearless, but Stiles knows better. He’s terrified. “Four others are coming,” he says, looking over to Patrick. “And that number includes our alpha. You promise they’ll be safe?” His eyes blaze up as he looks around at the others. “From _all_ of you?”

   “You will be,” Patrick says. These are loyal men that I trust with my life.”

   Derek nods. “Then I’ll do my best to do the same.” He looks back at Stiles. “Now?”

   Stiles nods, jumping up to stand on the ledge. “You guys ready?” he asks the others.

   He knows that he’s not even the right age to be a patrolman, let alone asking the questions that his father should be, but they all nod anyway.

   Stiles grins. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

   Derek rolls his eyes as he drops into his wolf form and runs into the woods, off to get his pack. Stiles ignores any looks that he’s getting, instead just crossing his arms and looking up at the sky. _Don’t ever stop watching the stars_ , Derek had said, and just like that, a shooting star hurtled itself across the sky.

   Stiles closes his eyes, picking a wish. It’s simple, but it’s the only one he needs: _I wish that, no matter what happens, Derek and I would be together_.

   When Derek comes out of the woods he’s in his human form again, and when he stops halfway between the woods and the Wall, the edge of the forest rustles to life as four other wolves step out just far enough that their bodies are out of it.

   “These are the representatives of our pack,” Derek says, motioning to them.

   Stiles looks at his father. “Introductions?”

   Patrick nods. “My name is Patrick of the Stilinski’s, head of the patrol. These are a handful of my own men.” He jumps up besides Stiles and walks down the Wall, throwing out the seven names that have come. “And some of you have met my son,” (he points at Stiles), “who has helped sparked all of this to life.”

   Derek nods, moving to introduce his own wolves: Erica is a golden blonde wolf with yellow eyes, Isaac is a brown wolf with curly fur and yellow eyes, Stiles has met Peter before, and… “Talia, our alpha and my mother. She’s agreed to show her human form so she can talk to you herself.” He steps aside at that, up to the Wall again, just beneath Stiles.

   Talia walks forward slowly, her wolf form sleek and black, red eyes glowing bright. She morphs up in the same black cloak, smiling warmly up at Stiles. “Hello again, Stiles.”

   Stiles smiles, definitely noticing the way that some of the other patrolmen look at him, as if to say, _You’ve met the ALPHA?_ “Hello yourself. Are Deucalion and his four around?”

   “They are being kept back at our village. You have nothing to fear from them.”

   He nods. “Good.”

   As he crawls down to stand with the others, Patrick takes over. They talk of the reason they’ve always had war and of a new way for peace, not just for the fourteen of them all here now. Talia explains that all but five wolves are completely up for the idea of a treaty, but Patrick explains that it’s more complicated for their won people. They can’t just go around asking for people to sign a petition—

   “I can,” Stiles says. “Within the younger of us, I can. If all of us agree than no one else has a choice, because we’ll be the future generation anyway. You can’t stop teenagers.”

   “But we can sure as hell try.”

   Stiles whips around, as do the others, holding up their weapons to the faces of Chris, Kate, and Victoria of the Argent’s.

   “You wish,” Stiles says, wishing he had a weapon of his own. “You can’t stop a change just because of your own bigotry. Your family can’t rival the entire kingdom.”

   Chris gives Stiles a dark look before completely ignoring him and looking at Patrick. “Now you’re _talking_ to them? You’re risking the life of your entire family, Patrick! Claudia is _sick_ and you’re talking to _savages_!”

   “We are savages you’ve made us as such,” Talia’s voice snarls, and everyone whips around with weapons up to see that Talia is standing up on the ledge of the Wall. No one asks how she got up, they just stare.

   “Once we were human, just like you,” she says, eyes blazing red and fangs bared long. “Long ago, before this silly Wall. But disease took one of you, changing you by the bite of a rabid wolf. Werewolves changed by the bite are just as rabid under the first full moon, killing because they cannot yet control it. That was when the Wall went up, and for good reason; you needed the protection. But we are all born wolves now, able to control it after only the first year of birth, long before our claws and teeth are even sharp. We are no longer the savages you see us as. We do not kill because we can, but because you threaten us. We dress in little because we have fur to keep us warm, and we eat raw because it is easier. We are what you call savages because you have given us no other _choice_. But if you let us in, we will not hurt you! There are so many things to learn from each other if you just let us!”

   Kate glares at her, sword high. “You killed my grandfather, you monster!”

   Talia raises an eyebrow. “Your father is Gerard, yes? Did he tell you _why_?”

   Victoria cocks her bow back. She’s who Allison learned how to shoot from. “It doesn’t matter _why_.”

   The alpha rolls her eyes, still bright red. “I killed Alexander because he killed my husband. You think you’re after revenge, but I have already taken it.”

   Chris raises his sword higher as well. “You’re lying,” he spits.

   Talia smiles. “I am not, and I will prove to all of you that we are not monsters.”

   Robert snorts. “How will you do that?” Obviously he’s skeptical of all of this.

   She looks at Stiles. “But not killing anyone.”

   Somehow Stiles knows exactly what she means, and he grins at his father as he hops back up beside her.

   Patrick’s eyes widen. “Stiles, no!”

   But they’re already jumping, Talia cradling Stiles close for the landing.

   “How long?” he asks Talia as Derek ducks over in his wolf form.

   “Ten days will do nicely,” Talia says before morphing down as well. He can barely hear over the ruckus up on the walls; there are arrows flying and people scrambling around to put down the ladders.

   But he turns back to his father, whose eyes are wide and panicked, but he’s standing still like he knows it’s going to be okay. So Stiles holds up all ten fingers, and Patrick gives a tiny little nod. And then they’re running off, disappearing into the woods with Stiles riding on Derek’s back.


	3. Part III: Caves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just FYI his part is basically as long as the two previous parts combined… Whoops!

_They all reeked of the same perfume,_  
 _Bled the same color,_  
 _Were called by the same name,_  
 _They’re more than a species, I’m sure_  
  
 _And for evil that is perfect,_  
 _For torture that is white_  
 _For pain that is innocent,_  
 _There is no certain cure_  
  
 _But everything that follows,_  
 _Everything enticed,_  
 _Everything intrigued_  
 _By all these shades of man_  
  
 _Mere hope keeps them alive_  
 _Simple wishes burn_  
 _Coins tossed in the fountain_  
 _What is your brilliant plan?  
_ —Unknown—

   Stiles closes his eyes for most of it, burying his face into Derek’s fur. When Derek finally starts to slow, Stiles lifts his head up to look around. It looks like any village that Stiles would have pictured, with teepees and fire pits and all. The only problem is that all of it is destroyed. The teepees have been ransacked, the pits all kicked out…

   Stiles frowns, sliding off of Derek’s back just before he, Talia, and Peter all shift into their human forms. Stiles knows what Derek and Talia look like, but he realizes that he’s never seen Peter before. He’s not very tall, and he leaves his claws and fangs out.

   “What happened?” Stiles asks Derek frantically, grabbing his hand.

   The two other wolves, Isaac and Erica, shift up as well, snickering.

   Stiles frowns, looking around. “Obviously I’m missing something.”

   “This isn’t the real village,” Derek says. “This is our decoy camp.”

   Stiles’ eyes widen. “You’re kidding.”

   Talia smiles. “He is not.”

   “Where do you guys live, then?”

   Peter grins at that, putting both hands on his hips and a sharp little grin on his face. “Tree houses, obviously.”

   Stiles wrinkles his nose up at the thought of wolves living in trees. “Really?”

   He rolls his eyes. “Derek, your human is an idiot.”

   Stiles huffs, looking over at Derek. “Derek, you’re uncle is mean.”

   Derek smiles, pulling Stiles closer. “It means he likes you. We live in intricately crafted caves, actually, which must makes us sound more like savages, but it’s the safest place we’ve got. We’re not the biggest things in the forest, after all.”

   Stiles frowns. “But…you’re all so big and powerful.”

   “Grizzly bear’s and lions aren’t pretty, kid,” Peter says. “We’d rather just leave those guys alone unless we’re really that desperate for food.”

   Stiles rolls his eyes. Peter seemed big and intimidating before, but now he just seems like a sassy, oversized puppy. “So where’s the entrance, then?”

   Talia smiles again, walking over to a tree on the outer edge of the fake wreckage. “ _That_ is where the trees come in.” She reaches up to pull down on a branch, and Stiles watches with wide eyes as the trunk itself begins to open up, revealing a passageway inside and down.

   “Wow,” he says, walking closer to it. “None of them will ever find this.”

   “Good to hear,” Erica says, walking passed him towards the entrance with crossed arms. “Because we’re risking our lives bringing you here. You better not turn on us, dull-eyes.”

   Stiles smiles up at Derek. He would never do anything to jeopardize their being together. “I won’t.”

   Isaac grins and goes after her, saying something to her, but Derek says something to Stiles before he can hear it:

   “Are you ready to meet the others?”

   Stiles pulls in a deep breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

   Talia and Peter go ahead of him, and Derek takes a hold of Stiles’ hand before walking down behind him. The stairs are steep and twisted, and Stiles gets about three steps down before he realizes that there’s a stench that’s growing stronger as he goes. It’s one he’s never truly noticed on Derek until this very moment… The smell of a wolf, earthy and warm. He’s about ten steps down when he can no longer see anything at all, and Derek squeezes his hand tighter before he’s doing that candle thing with his eyes and Stiles can see just enough.

   “Is everything this dark down here?” he asks, squeezing Derek’s hand back.

   “Usually,” Derek says. “We have a fire pit that we use to cook things sometimes, or to warm ourselves in the winter. We don’t usually use it in the warm months, though, because we can see in the dark. Entertainment, too.”

   Eventually the stairs level out, and they’re soon walking down a deep tunnel. The walls are simple dirt, but after a few minutes it gives way to stone.

   “Wow,” he says, looking around. “How deep are we?”

   “Too deep for any of us to hear or smell through the earth,” Derek says, pulling him closer. “We’re almost there.”

   Stiles can still only see a few feet in front of him, but he assumes that they’ve reached their destination when they come to a stop.

   “Don’t speak,” Derek whispers, and Talia steps up to Stiles as well.

   “This, child,” she says, resting a hand on his shoulder, “is our _real_ village.”

   Completely on cue, a gigantic fire blazes up before them, revealing a gigantic stone room that’s probably the biggest they’ve got in these caves. It’s got three layers, with smaller caves dug in, and up along the layers are a number of werewolves that Stiles counts at seven, some of them in their wolf forms and others in their human ones. All of them have bright glowing eyes in the sudden light, staring down at Stiles with wide, curious eyes. Stiles remembers what Derek said about how many of them have never actually seen a human before, let alone in their own home.

   Talia raises both of her hands into the air, bringing the attention to her, before dropping them back down. “I would like to introduce you to Stiles.” She holds her hand out to him. “He is my sons.”

   Stiles is greeted with slow, small growls before they start to grow, and by then he realizes that they’re howls. They echo around the stone, blasting through his ears. He stumbles backwards, running into Derek’s chest.

   “It’s okay,” Derek whispers into his ear, wrapping his arms around his waist. “That’s good.”

   Stiles swallows tightly. “It’s loud.”

   Derek kisses the back of his neck, but he doesn’t get to say anything more before Talia has quieted everyone down.

   “You are to treat him like pack while he is here,” she says. “Anyone who doesn’t will answer to _me_. And speaking of rebels…” She looks over to a wolf with beautiful, silvery fur and gorgeous gold eyes. “How are they?”

   The woman that morphs up has jet black hair instead of it matching her fur, both hands on her hips as she walks forward in full-battle armor. “Deucalion and his four are being kept in each of the separate cells.”

   Talia smiles at Stiles. “This is my oldest daughter, Laura. You are completely safe.”

   Stiles smiles back. “Thank you,” he says softly. He wouldn’t be able to muster anything else. Derek he’s used to, but all of this? Seven wolves he’s never met, the five that want him dead, and the five others… That’s seventeen wolves including Derek. Stiles expected a total of ten at most, but not all this. This is a true, dangerous wolf pack; Talia must be _very_ powerful.

   Derek unwraps his arms from Stiles to take on of his hands again. “Come on,” he says. “I’ll show you we’re we’ll stay.”

   Stiles frowns as Derek pulls him towards a ladder cut into the stone. “That’s it? No branding?”

   There’s a snort, and then a dark skinned man is dropping down beside them as they crawl to the second layer. “He’s cute, Derek,” he says, “but he’s got a lot to learn.”

   Derek smiles, pulling Stiles closer. “Stiles, this is Boyd. He is the mate to Erica.”

   At that, said female wolf flips up from the bottom layer to land beside the man. “You’ve got that right, sweetheart.” She grins, throwing an arm around Boyd’s shoulders. “If anyone’s gonna be branded it’s this guy by _me_.”

   Boyd gives a good natured eye roll, wrapping an arm around her waist. “You are so mean,” he says fondly.

   She shrugs. “No regrets.”

   Stiles smiles, loving how coarse the wolves all are. He’s used to Derek and Talia’s hold on things, which is rather regal, but now he’s met Peter and some wolves that look more his age and they’re everything but. He likes it.

   Stiles is about to say that it’s nice to meet them, but suddenly the fire is put out with a sharp hiss, and Stiles stumbles back into Derek again. A new voice giggles as yellow eyes jump down beside them, and Derek blinks his eyes brighter so Stiles can see that it’s Isaac.

   “He _is_ cute,” the curly haired wolf says, eyes wide. “Can we keep him?”

   “Only for ten days,” Derek says. “Then we’ve got to show the humans that we’re not monsters by bringing him back alive.”

   “Well _I’m_ a monster,” another new voice says, and Stiles watches as another yellow-eyed wolf steps forward.

   Derek smiles. “Stiles, this is Cora, my little sister.”

   Stiles smiles. “Derek told me about you.”

   “Oh?” she says, grinning almost evilly. “Did he tell you how monstrous I am?”

   “Oh yeah,” Stiles says, flitting a wrist. “Very monstrous.

   “Alright, enough,” Derek says, pulling Stiles closer again. “Go bother some other poor soul, would you?”

   Cora turns her grin to the other three. “I bet Adrian would _love_ to see us.”

   They all whoop in little howls, disappearing off into the darkness—well, Stiles’ darkness, since _he_ doesn’t have night vision.

   Derek leads him down one of the tunnels up on the third layer, and every few yards there’s a hole in the side with a slab of wood dug in to block each of them like a door.

   “Ours is at the end,” Derek says. “We’re staying as far away from the prison cells as possible.”

   “Do you usually stay back here?” Stiles asks in a whisper. It’s getting quieter the further they walk through the stone walls.

   “No,” Derek says. “I usually stay with my family. That’s how we all are until we find a mate.”

   Stiles nods as Derek stops at the end of the tunnel. “Who in your family has mates, then?”

   “Just Laura,” he says.

   Stiles frowns, following him in. “Not Peter?”

   Derek snorts. “Have you _met_ Peter?”

   Stiles nods. “You’re right, I wouldn’t mate with him either.”

   The cave is small, with a cot, one blanket, and one pillow.

   “When the cold months set in,” Derek says as he closes them in, “most of the pack sleeps piled up in that main room back there, and then we light up the huge fire in the middle. We all stay warm that way.”

   “That’s smart,” Stiles says, sitting down on the cot. “Will you sleep as a wolf with me?”

   “Eventually,” Derek says, dropping down beside him. “But…not yet.”

   Stiles grins, leaning back on his elbows. “Oh?”

   Derek hums from deep in his chest as he crawls over Stiles’ body, eyes bright and blue and hungry.

   “I saw a shooting star back on the Wall,” Stiles says as he kicks off his boots.

   Derek smiles, pushing Stiles’ cloak off. “Did you make a wish?”

   He nods, shoving down at his pants at the same time that Derek tries to push his shirt up.

   “What did you wish for?” Derek asks, pushing Stiles’ hands out of the way so that the shirt can come off first.

   “That we would stay together no matter what happened.”

   Derek’s eyes shine brighter, and then he’s leaning down to kiss Stiles hard, hands moving to hold onto the sides of his face. “I love you,” he whispers.

   Stiles smiles against his mouth, kicking his pants off. “I love you, too.”

**XxX**

   Stiles wakes up on the cot with the blankets shoved down to his waist and both legs sticking out, and there are bodies of fur on all sides of his body. For the first split second that he’s awake he wonders how Derek could have done that without also covering above him, but then he realizes that there are more than one sets of breathing in the little cave.

   He sits up fast, and a pair of gold eyes are instantly blinking at him, illuminating the small area. He sees that Derek’s black fur is on his right side, closest to the door, a dark brown wolf is asleep above his head, a light colored curly wolf is at his feet, and the wolf watching him has golden blonde fur. It’s Derek, Boyd, Isaac, and Erica.

   “Why did you come in here?” Stiles whispers.

   Erica tilts her head slightly, but she doesn’t morph into her human form to answer him.

   Stiles frowns, realization dawning on him. “Did you three come in here to make sure that I stayed protected?”

   A little smile spreads across her wolfy face, and she nods.

   Stiles smiles, reaching forward to smooth his hand down the fur of her neck. “Thank you.”

   She nods again, dropping her head back down. Stiles reaches and begins to pet the top of her head, and he’s happy to see that she looks very pleased about that. Eventually her eyes shut, putting the room back into darkness—but only for a split second, because two other sets of gold eyes blink open. Boyd and Isaac scoot closer to him, Boyd pushing up against Stiles back so that he can lean against him and Isaac draping over Stiles’ lap so that he doesn’t even _need_ the blanket. Stiles scratches the tops of their heads, smiling at the way that Erica’s eyes open back up to glare a little bit when he stops on her.

   “Eventually I’m going to be able to understand all of you in your wolf forms,” he whispers so that he doesn’t wake Derek. “That way you won’t ever have to come out of it.”

   Boyd’s body shakes with a hum that must be laughter, and at that point Derek jumps up, blue eyes blazing bright to illuminate the room and fangs bared. But they instantly put out as he realizes what’s going on, and he looks at all of the other three wolves individually before morphing into his human form (still naked) and wrapping his arms around Stiles’ stomach.

   “Don’t forget me,” he says.

   Stiles laughs, pulling both of his hands away from Isaac and Boyd and scratching vigorously over the top of Derek’s neck, behind his ears, and down the back of his neck. “You are all adorable,” he says.

   In response, all four of them cuddle up even closer to him, Derek pushing him onto his back before morphing back into his wolf form so that all four of the wolves can pile on top of him more. Stiles squeals a little bit at the way that they start to lick his face and neck, but Isaac sniffing against his stomach is probably the worst since it tickles.

   “Much better,” Erica says, morphing out of her wolf form and blinking around. She dresses in hardly anything at all for a woman, with _just_ enough furs to cover her chest, backside, and between her legs. Obviously wolves aren’t much for privacy. “You humans smell terrible.”

   Stiles smiles, leaning back against where Boyd is still propped up behind him. “Yeah, well, you guys don’t smell much better in such tight quarters.”

   “You’ll get used to it,” Derek says, morphing into his human form as well. “And all of the other wolves will get used to you as well.”

   “Hey,” Boyd says, morphing out of his wolf form as well. “Do you think he’s ready to meet the others?”

   “All ten of them,” Isaac prompts after his own shift.

   Derek winces. “Maybe not _those_ five…”

   “Oh, come on, it’d be fun!” Erica barks. “He could gloat that he won!”

   “That sounds like fun,” Stiles says. “Best case they realizes that I’m great and don’t want to kill me.”

   The four wolves burst into laughter.

   “You wish,” Boyd says, patting him on the shoulder. “You’re just another human to them. Don’t count on it.”

   Stiles shrugs. “Still.”

   It doesn’t take long to meet the first five werewolves of the pack that Stiles has yet to. Jennifer is a hard, defiant woman with dark brown fur and golden glowing eyes, and she’s actually to mate to Laura, who Stiles doesn’t get to meet, but nobody has any explanation as to why her fur is silvery instead of the black that her hair is. She’s also a defiant person, so apparently they fight a lot, and when that comes along most of the wolves lock themselves into their respective cave-rooms.

   Adrian’s brown fur is a medium shade, and he also has yellow eyes, and Stiles learns from Erica through whispers that he and Laura actually had a fight for Jennifer and he lost. He probably would have won if Laura didn’t have alpha blood in her, but no such luck for him.

   Caitlin, with dark brown fur, and Emily, with black fur, are a couple who both have yellow eyes, and they’re mates as well. From talking to them Stiles learns that werewolves actually mate for life, which definitely made Stiles glance up at Derek. Derek didn’t answer him, but Stiles wants to know if it’s the same for them since he’s a human.

   Stiles finds it odd that there are so many young werewolves, but he learns that most of the adults have been killed by the humans—specifically the Argent’s. Derek’s father, all ten of the parents for Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Caitlin, and Emily, and then the parents of the others also died from old age.

   Stiles next meets the five in the cells…

   “Are you sure you want to do this?” Derek asks.

   Stiles nods. “I can do it.”

   He nods, looking at his other three friends. “I want the three of you to stay back here, okay?”

   They all start to protest, but Derek silences them with a blue-eyed snarl. “I don’t need you helping rowdy them up,” he says, taking Stiles’ hand. “It’s going to be bad enough with Stiles.”

   The walk back is longer than Stiles expected, though not as long as the initial walk down. It’s also quieter. There aren’t any other caves dug into the sides; just the way down until the very end. There are five cells, with one at the end and two other either side of it. Stiles can see that there are real metal bars, and they extend into the cells and completely around in small squares.

   “They wrap all the way around us so that we can’t eventually dig through the stone to the dirt,” a voice says, and Stiles swallows tightly as Deucalion steps up against the bars in the cell at the end of the stretch.

   “You should be in one of these cells,” the woman—Kali, if Stiles remembers correctly—spits at him from the first cell to the left of Deucalion’s, eyes blazing blue as her claws curl around the bars. “Better yet, in here with me so I can rip you apart.”

   Stiles presses himself up against Derek. “You’re going to kill me for revenge on the entire human race, then?” he asks. “That sounds idiotic.”

   “Isn’t it?” Deucalion says, arms crossed. “Why do it, then, you ask?”

   “Because we want to,” a new voice says, and Stiles realizes that he’s never heard the voice of the biggest wolf of their little group. He’s even bigger than Derek is. “Because we like the taste of human _flesh_.”

   “Human flesh tastes the same as ours does, Ennis,” one of the twins says, and Stiles turns to see the one beside Kali leaning against the bars.

   “Which means he’s into cannibalism,” the other twin says. “So what?”

   Derek rolls his eyes a little, taking Stiles’ other hand. “You’ve met Deucalion, Kali is the woman, her mate is Ennis, and these are the twins. Aiden is beside Ennis, and Ethan is the other.”

   “You’re introducing him to everyone?” Deucalion asks, eyebrow raised eye. “What for? he’s not going to be alive for much longer.”

   Derek scoffs. “If anyone is going to die, Deucalion,” he growls, “it’s going to be you.”

   The smirk that spreads across the mans face is so pure and evil that Stiles is about to ask Derek if they can leave, but just before he can, there’s a wrenching sound of metal, and suddenly Ennis and Aiden are both crashing through their cell doors, sending up dust and stone. Ennis instantly lunges at Derek in his wolf form, throwing him off to the side. Derek snarls, shifting as well to fight back. Ennis is bigger though, so Derek is unable to do anything about Aiden. Stiles is already sprinting back up the tunnel, lungs heaving in panic. He can hear the twin running after him, snarling loud and—

   Stiles’ eyes blaze wide as another wolf comes out of nowhere in front of him, diving over and passed him. He whips around to see Laura’s silvery fur shifting away into full-armor in mid-air, and from out of that air she fabricates a scythe. Aiden’s head is cut clean off even in his wolf form, but as it’s rolling away from his body it shifts back into his human form, rolling forward until it bumps against Stiles’ feet. Stiles holds his breath, sure that if he tries to take a single one he’s going to vomit.

   He looks up to see her crashing the point down on Ennis’ cowering form as well, instantly killing him with a blow straight through the skull.

   “Well then,” Laura says breathlessly, standing upright as she looks first at Derek and then back up at Stiles (he didn’t get very far with his terrified, human legs). “I’ve always wanted to do that to one of them, but two is a _real_ treat.”

   Stiles’ knees give out, but suddenly Derek is there, holding up him and pushing him against the wall for support. He’s asking Stiles if he’s okay and apologizing, but it’s barely heard over the racket that Deucalion and his other three are snarling so loudly at the sudden death of their comrades.

   But then Laura is at them, snarling so loudly that Stiles has to cover his ears. All four of the other wolves silence at that, and Stiles sees the other twin back away from his cell bars.

   “Let that be a lesson to you,” Laura growls, eyes blazing gold. “When you don’t listen to the alpha, you _die_.” She whips her head over to Kali. “When you get out of here, and I’m confident that you will, I’ll be waiting for you.” She turns away at that, walking back towards Derek and Stiles. “You shouldn’t have come down here with him, brother,” she says softly.

   “I know,” Derek spits. “They’re loosening the doors, Laura. We can’t leave them in here. They’ll get out!”

   Laura motions for them to follow her without saying anything, so Derek holds onto Stiles tightly as they do. Upon stepping outside, a gigantic circle of stone is rolled after them against the opening, blocking them in. More big stones are set against it after that, blocking them in so entirely that even Ennis wouldn’t be able to get out if he were still alive. The entire pack is all staring down at them, eyes wide in what’s going to happen next.

   It’s Talia who speaks first, dropping down to stand beside Laura while facing everybody else: “Leave them in there to _rot_.”

   The entire pack starts up in howls just like yesterday, and this time Derek joins them, holding Stiles tightly.

   When it all dies down, Stiles looks over at Talia with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry,” he says.

   “Don’t be, child,” she says, resting a hand on her shoulder. “I have been looking for a real, true reason to do away with those wolves for _years_ now. Deucalion is older than I am, you know. He’s been planning on taking over since the beginning.”

   Stiles frowns. “Then why did you keep him around?”

   “I had to keep an eye on him,” she says. “I would rather have my enemies in my own household to learn about them than sending them away to plot without my knowing it.”

   Stiles nods, looking away.

   “He wouldn’t have been able to do it anyway,” Laura says, scythe disappearing into thin air. Stiles doesn’t know how that works, but he’s sure it has to do with the same properties as clothes disappearing when werewolves shift into their wolf forms. “He’s half blind, after all.”

   “Only half blind?” Stiles asks.

   She nods. “He can see as a wolf, but the best of us are able to fight while interchanging forms. So you”—she points at Derek—“need to practice some more.”

   “I can teach him!” Erica says, dropping down from the third level. “And I can teach Stiles, too!”

   “You’re  not _that_ good at it, pup,” Laura says, flicking the tip of her nose.

   Erica smirks. “Better than Derek.”

   “How could you teach _me_ , though?” Stiles asks.

   “Not to inter-change,” she says. “Just to defend yourself. Have you ever used weapons before? Laura’s got tons of them that you could borrow.”

   Laura smirks at that, but there’s also an evil glint in her eyes. “I think I’d like to teach him myself, Erica darling.”

   Derek holds Stiles tighter. “No way, you’ll get him killed.”

   “Oh, and _you’re_ so much better at keeping him alive?”

   Derek huffs. “Fine, but only if I can be around too.”

   “Of course,” she says. She turns back to Stiles. “Get something to eat, flat-tooth. You’re going to need your strength for all of this.”

   Stiles nods fervently until she looks away before looking back at Derek. “Am I going to die?”

   Isaac drops down at that, grinning widely. “You are definitely going to die.

**XxX**

_7 Days Later: Day 7…_

   Stiles is so ready to be a patrolman that it’s not even funny. Hell, he could be a hunter _and_ a patrolman. Laura has such an intense stock up of weapons that it’s actually kind of scary, but on the upside he’s learned how to use a sword, an ax, a scythe, a spear, a whip, bows and arrows, a mace, throwing knives, a really intense hammer, and for kicks Isaac taught him how to pick more intricate locks than he already can. Erica and Derek also band up against him to teach him some hand-to-hand combat moves, wherein he gets to use brass knuckles and a spiked gauntlet that Boyd likes to use.

   Seriously, he’s a beast.

   It’s the seventh day that he’s managed to come pretty close to perfecting them, and that’s because they hardly do anything but practice, eat, and sleep. Even a bunch of the other wolves joined in with the fun; Jennifer likes to kick dust up and cloud out Stiles’ vision, Cora pretends that she’s weak until the last second in surprise (which only works the first time fighting someone, which is a shame), Peter fakes so much that eventually whoever is fighting him gets bored and accidentally lets their guard down, and Talia is just _amazing_. She takes down every last wolf at the same time, Stiles just watching in awe. No wonder she’s the alpha; she _is_ powerful.

   The wolves also play little games, though. “Wolf in the Forest” is a favorite, and that’s where one wolf is “it” and everybody else is a deer, running and hiding so that they don’t get caught. If they are caught, they become a wolf as well, and the last deer alive is the winner. That’s the concept of most of their games, really… There’s chase and “Dead Wolf” (where one wolf pretends to come back from the dead and then goes around capturing and eating people, putting them out of the game until there’s only one person left).

   And what’s not really a game but is Stiles’ favorite one anyway, the entire pack gathers up in the main room of the caves with the fire blazing when night comes and they’re all down in the caves after a hard day of hunting, eating, working (their clothes don’t make themselves, after all) and playing. Wolves gather around all of the layers, and then some of them drop down by the fire to tell stories in rhyme. Sometimes the stories are made up or they’re just myths, but they never cease to be Stiles’ favorite part about his entire stay.

   “I am amazing,” Stiles says as he and Derek are trekking through the woods. They’re making sure that they don’t run into anyone from the city, Derek’s senses on high alert. They’ve still got four more days (including today and the day he’s going to go back), after all—and Stiles is _flourishing_. He’s even started dressing differently, with the classic werewolf-y skins for pants (sowing together rabbit furs and then turning them inside out is literally the softest, best idea in the entire world), straps to hold his case of bows and an arrow (he’s best with those and the ax, which is why he tends to carry them around the most), and moccasin boots strapped tightly to his calves. He’s got his cloak on as well, though he’s not sure why he doesn’t just leave it back in the cave that he and Derek are staying in (still as far from the cells as they can be. Talia is planning on opening it up to clean it out on the ninth day) since it’s so bright and annoying. A habit, he supposes.

   Derek shoves at his shoulder, but he’s smiling. “You are horrible.”

   “Horribly _amazing_.”

   Derek shifts down into his wolf form with a playful growl, tackling him to the ground. Stiles laughs, rolling through the underbrush with him. He squeals a little bit when Derek starts licking his face, wishing he had a club instead of an ax so he could actually hit Derek with it.

   Derek pulls away on his own, though, dropping back to growl lightly in the direction of the Wall. Stiles jumps up as well, ax held high.

   Derek paws the ground twice, signaling that there are two, and then once more after a pause to say that he recognizes one of their scents as familiar. He and Derek hide themselves behind trees when the two don’t come out right away, but when they do come out, Stiles instantly jumps out.

   “Scott!” he exclaims, eyes wide. “Allison! What are you doing out here?”

   Both of his friends give him wide-eyed looks. “You’re alive!” Scott says loudly as Allison launches at him for a hug.

   “Of course I’m alive,” Stiles says, careful with the ax as he hugs his friend back. “Derek would never let any harm come to me.”

   “This is him, then?” Allison asks, stepping back to fall against Scott’s chest. “The first wolf that you ever saw?”

   “Yeah,” Stiles says, smiling over at where Derek is still in his wolf form. “Stop being rude, Derek.”

   Derek shifts up at that, eyes glowing blue as he steps up beside Stiles. “What are they doing out here?” he asks, cautious. “I don’t smell any others.”

   “We came out here because we were worried,” Scott says, patting Stiles on the shoulder. “Nobody else is coming, we promise.”

   “They’re getting edgy, though,” Allison says, eyes darting around a bit. “My father keeps trying to start a riot to come out here and rescue you, but Rafael and your father are doing pretty good at keeping any of his followers down. There aren’t enough to get the entire city on their side, so right now we’ve just got a whole bunch of really loud arguments.”

   Stiles sighs. “Think they could keep it down for another few days?”

   “I’m sure of it,” Allison says. “My father hates werewolves, but he’s not crazy. That’s my grandpa’s strong suit. He’s been pretty quiet about the whole thing, though…” She sighs. “Maybe he’s dying.”

   Scott rolls his eyes. “We can only hope.”

   Stiles grins. “I missed you guys. How’s my mother doing?”

   Both of his friends wince at that, so Stiles’ shoulders slump. “She’s gotten worse,” Scott says softly. “My mother says that she’s only got a few more months left in her.”

   Stiles isn’t sure what he’s going to say after that, but that’s okay, because Derek gives him a wide-eyed look instead. “Stiles, I know how to save your mother.”

   Stiles and his two friends stare up at him. “How?” Stiles asks.

   “I remember what she smelt like,” he says. “It’s a disease that werewolves can’t get. Stiles, if all of this works out, she can be saved if she…” He purses his lips. “If she becomes a werewolf.”

   Stiles blinks at him for a few seconds. “Really?” he says. “The disease will disappear?”

   He nods. “Werewolf cells are stronger than human ones. Whatever it is will be destroyed completely. She just has to agree to it.”

   “She’ll agree to it,” Stiles says. “I know she will!”

   “But, Stiles…” Scott says. “What if this doesn’t work out? What if the city still rejects werewolves?”

   “Then the ones who don’t can leave it,” Stiles snaps. “My mother will be okay with it, city’s backup or not. She’ll leave the city in a heartbeat if it means staying alive to be with me and my father. He’ll come too, though he’ll be skeptical about it at first.”

   “I’ll come,” Allison says, “but my family won’t.”

   “Me too,” Scott says, “but I don’t think my mother will. She’s one of the best doctors in the entire city. She knows that humans are weaker than werewolves, so she’s stay behind to make sure that everybody continued to be okay. Alan of Deaton would come, though. He’d be a great doctor for you guys if you’ve got something that isn’t healing right away.”

   “That’s only if it doesn’t work, though,” Stiles says. “If it does then we don’t have to worry about it.”

   “Let’s hope, then,” Derek says.

   “Yeah,” Allison sighs. “That’s all we can do at this point.”

   Stiles nods. “Are you two going to go back, then? You can tell them that I’m alive.”

   “Actually…” Scott says, stepping forward. “We were wondering if I could stay for the next few days. Allison is going to go back to try and keep her family under control and to tell them that we’re alive, but…” He shrugs. “We thought that it would be good to get somebody besides a lover in on it.”

   Stiles looks up at Derek. “Do you think Talia would be okay with that?”

   Derek nods. “I know she would be. Laura, too. We can teach him some of the things that we’ve taught you.”

   “Yeah,” Scott says, looking Stiles over. “You look like you _belong_ out here.”

   Stiles smiles at him. “Maybe I do.”

   “I should be getting back,” Allison says. “They’ve had all of the sections under heavy surveillance. We had to use one of your ropes to get down here, and they’ve probably found it by now.”

   “Alright,” Stiles says, nodding. “Tell everyone that we’re alive and well, alright?”

   “Do you have anything that I could bring back?” she asks. “Your cloak, maybe?”

   He nods, beginning to pull of his weapons so that he can get it off.

   “Mine, too,” Scott says, unclipping his brown one. “It’s a good thing it’s still warm out.”

   “Agreed,” Derek says, looking down at his mostly bare body.

   “Where’s he going to stay?” Stiles asks. “With us?”

   Derek nods. “He can cram in.” Even though Isaac has his own place and Erica and Boyd share a different one they’ve all been staying with Stiles and Derek.

   Once Allison has their cloaks bundled up she sets off. Stiles doesn’t feel the need to make sure that she gets there safely because there isn’t anything that’s out to get her anymore. The other animals don’t ever attack unless they’re first being attack, and Allison is simply passing through. She’ll get back to the Wall just fine.

   “Ready?” Stiles says to Scott, weapons back on.

   He nods. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

   Derek shifts back into his wolf form, crouching down beside Scott.

   He frowns. “Am I supposed to ride him?”

   Stiles nods. “We’ll get back faster if you do.”

   Scott climbs on tentatively.

   “Hold on as tight as you can,” Stiles says as he starts to move. “He won’t mind.”

   Obviously Stiles doesn’t run as fast as Derek can as a wolf, but he’s still gotten pretty good at getting through the forest. There are different types of undergrowth around the city, with some sections with just a lot of pine trees and some dead leaves that makes it easy to go through. Over here, though, there are thorn bushes, poison ivy, towering ferns, smaller trees, and more. Isaac and Cora helped him learn how to get through the woods faster than tripping over everything, and now Stiles is able to jump over big stones and flip over fallen logs. His arrows are held in tight, so they only come out when he actually yanks on them, and that way they don’t all fall out if he ends up upside down. It’s very convenient.

   Scott is pretty amazed at the whole trick-camp thing, and Derek blinks his eyes on for the walk down the stone halls.

   Talia and Peter are instantly to them, eyes bright as they stare at Scott.

   “This is the other boy that was out with you,” Peter says to Stiles.

   “It is,” Stiles says. “We thought it would be good to have another survivor. If not we can take him back, bu—”

   “He may stay,” Talia says, stepping up to Scott. “What is your name, child?”

   “Scott of the McCall’s,” he says. “My father is in the day patrol and my mother is one of the city healers.”

   She nods. “Two very important jobs in your society. Can we trust you, Scott?”

   Scott’s eyes dart over to Stiles, who gives a thumbs up. “You can,” he says to her. “If this all goes to hell I promise that I’ll never tell a soul where you all really live.”

   She smiles, clasping his shoulder. “I believe you, child. Welcome to our home.”

**XxX**

_2 Days Later: Day 9…_

   “Ready?” Laura calls through the main cave.

   “Ready!” the wolves echo back.

   “Roll!”

   The gigantic stone in front of the cell hall is rolled aside with few grunts, instantly letting out a fowl stench. Stiles gags, covering his face with his sleeve.

   “Why did you leave them down there again?” Scott asks, doing the same.

   “Because they tired to kill me,” Stiles says. “Also they’ve been plotting to kill the alpha, so they deserved to die a long time ago, too.”

   “So it’s kind of like the way we exiled Matt?”

   “Right.”

   All of the wolves stand back for a few seconds, waiting for any small miracle that the wolves survived without food and water for over five days. And then it happens:

   One of the twins (Stiles can’t tell which one) stumbles out, collapsing onto hands and knees. He’s in his human form, and he looks frail and very, very tired. His hands and face are covered in dried blood, and Stiles has never seen a pair of blue eyes so dull in his entire life.

   Laura is looking to Talia for direction, but before the alpha can speak, he croaks out: “Please.” It sounds even worse than he looks, but then he drops down in a faint.

   “Get him food and water,” Talia snarls. “Strap him down and nurse him up!” As Caitlin and Emily do just that, she jumps down and glares at Peter and Laura. “Get down there and tell me how the hell he survived.”

   They nod, flitting in. Everybody sticks around to wait for what happened, and when the two come back out they’re wearing looks of pure, horrified disgust.

   “What happened?” Talia asks, eyes blazing red.

   “He and Kali got out,” Peter says, “and he…”

   “He _ate_ them,” Laura chokes out. “He ate Ennis, Kali, and his own _twin_ so he could survive. Kali is just a pile of bones and—”

   Stiles tunes the rest of that part out, gagging again. Talia gives a disgusted look of her own, but she keeps her composer much better. “What of Deucalion?” she asks.

   “Dead,” Peter barks happily.

   “You’re sure?”

   “Definitely sure,” Laura says. “Deucalion’s eyes are decomposed completely.”

   Talia gives another disgusted look. “That pup has a lot of explaining to do.”

**XxX**

   It’s not for a few hours (where most of the wolves have all gone in and cleaned out the bodies completely, leaving them out to rot in their fake camp to add to the illusion of a battle) that Ethan finally wakes up, unable to move any of his limbs. Caitlin and Emily are slowly nursing him back to health, and since he’s a werewolf it doesn’t take too long before he can talk clearer. Nobody but Talia and the two girls are allowed in while he speaks, but Derek can overhear the whole thing since they’re right outside of it, so he relays the whole thing in whispers…

   Deucalion died within two days because he was the oldest and already the most frail, and just a few hours after he stopped breathing was when Kali managed to get out of her own cell. It took her another day to get Ethan out of his, and at that point they were so thirsty that they could barely walk, let alone crash into the stone blockage in their wolf forms. It was at that point that Ethan brought up what Aiden said about cannibalism. Kali rejected the idea completely for about an hour, not letting Ethan do it either, but eventually the hunger and thirst became too much. The bodies were beginning to decay, but it was enough that they were able to survive on them for the next couple of days. Kali ate Aiden so Ethan wouldn’t have to, and vice versa with Ennis.

   The only reason they survived during that was because they ate in their wolf forms, and Ethan imagined that he was eating lion flesh. Kali broke down two days after it, though, and while the bodies had all the right nutrients, the idea of it was so stressful that it was barely keeping them alive at all. When Kali snapped she was so weak that her heart gave out, and that’s when she died, dropping over Ennis. Ethan ate almost every piece of her because it was finally something fresh. He can remember the taste of his own tears. The only reason he survived without true water is because of the blood, but if the state of him now has anything to say about it, it’s obviously not the same thing. It works for a while, but if Ethan had been in there any longer he would have died with the others.

   He claims (Derek can’t tell if it’s the truth or not because his heart is already beating so rapidly at the story telling in general) that he was trying to get out of Deucalion’s miniature back since the beginning, but Aiden always said that they owed Deucalion for teaching them how to morph their bodies together (apparently identical werewolf twins can do that), so he wouldn’t let him leave or warn anybody about the plan.

   Derek and the others all whisper around that they believe them, because Ethan was always the sweetest of the five. He would wince whenever they said anything hurtful, but what’s a wince compared to the love for a brother?

   When Talia comes out she looks absolutely miserable, and she looks around the stone hallway outside of the cave to see that every single pack member is sitting outside having listened to Derek’s retelling of it. They probably listened for themselves as well, but Stiles and Scott don’t have the same senses, so maybe they just listened to Derek.

   “We’re going to keep him,” she says. “I believe him.”

   The hallway bursts into howls of approval.

   She nods. “Let us take our minds off of horrible deeds,” she says, moving towards the main cave. “Let us hear of other stories.”

   Stiles grins widely over at Scott. “This is my favorite part of the day,” he says. “The wolves tell stories in rhymes around the campfire.”

   Scott raises an eyebrow, following him out of the hall. “Campfire?”

   The fire blazes up the second they step out, Isaac and Cora already dancing around it in glee. The other wolves all spread around, and Stiles, Scott, Derek, Erica, and Boyd all sit in their usual location in front of the hall that Stiles and Derek are staying in, but now it holds Scott and Derek’s three friends as well.

   Isaac and Cora tell a story almost every night, usually something completely made up, and Derek informs Stiles and Scott after a few lines in that this one is as well. They switch off every four lines, Cora going first:

 _“The basket weaver sits_  
 _By a field known as Run_  
 _And everyday her lips_  
 _Turn cracked and red from all the sun.”_  
  
 _“Her fingers always blister_  
 _As they take the grass and weave_  
 _But she’s really quite a listener_  
 _Which makes up for dirt-caked knees.”_  
  
 _“The basket weaver loves_  
 _All she sees and all she hears_  
 _And whenever she sees blood_  
 _She’s there to save you; calm your fears.”_  
  
 _“Her baskets do not work well_  
 _But the townsfolk always buy them_  
 _For everyone is sure to tell_  
 _If they don’t she’s bound as fallen.”_  
  
 _“The basket weaver kills_  
 _All the evil that’s around_  
 _And all the pain that seems to mill_  
 _Up the walls and planes and ground.”_  
  
 _“Her family’s non-existent_  
 _But she treats us all as such_  
 _Her eyes are just a pigment_  
 _But they sparkle very much.”_  
  
 _“So go visit her sometime today_  
 _She’s sure to say hello_  
 _And while you’re at it, sit or lay_  
 _To watch her fingers weave and sow.”_  
  
   They’re met with the usual whoops and howls, and Scott is smiling as well.

   “This so different compared to the city!” he says as Laura and Jennifer are next jumping down, Laura holding a bow and Jennifer with a casket of arrows.

   “I know!” Stiles says, grinning. “I love it!”

   Laura and Jennifer switch off as well, with Laura going first:  
  
 _“Cross us and we’ll shoot you dead_  
 _There’s a bounty on our heads_  
 _Don’t underestimate our size_  
 _We’ll hit you right between the eyes.”_  
  
 _“It was so many years ago_  
 _That they decided we should go_  
 _For shooting humans down with lies_  
 _And sending out uproarious cries.”_  
  
 _“And on occasion we would sell_  
 _Ourselves away, then kill who’d tell_  
 _And every time a soul would sigh_  
 _We’d shrug and say, ‘You had to die.’”_  
  
 _“So piss us off and guarantee_  
 _Your world will be six feet beneath_  
 _So we suggest from us you shy_  
 _Or bows come out and arrows fly.”  
_  
   There are more howls, and then Erica and Boyd are the next ones to go down. Boyd is the only one that speaks, telling a made-up story of Erica as she struts around like she was _born_ for a life narrator:  
  
 _“The girl you see is the evil she_  
 _She struts around like she knows the town_  
 _At times like these take it from me_  
 _Never ride near her evil stride._  
  
 _She’s got deep set eyes that burn your insides._  
 _Searching through you like she’s got nothing better to do._  
 _But you know she does ‘cause she always was_  
 _Always was the one that got the better boys underneath the sun._  
  
 _She’s looking through your heart like she’s tearing you apart_  
 _Staring through your eyes like she sees all of your lies_  
 _Takes your hands and close she pulls, like she’s taking apart your soul_  
 _Don’t be deceived by the way she looks, for she can read you like the books._  
  
 _What she wants is someone to taunt; someone to taunt so she gets when she’s got_  
 _She will not take ‘cause its a fake. A fake that takes your heart to break  
_ _And though there’s love inside your head, she’d rather take and make you dead  
_ _So take it from me in times like these… Stay away from the evil she.”_

  
   Stiles and Scott whoop and clap along with everybody else, but suddenly Stiles realizes that they’re all chanting for _him_ to come down.

   “Oh,” he says, eyes wide. “Oh, no, I don’t know any stories.”

   “Make something up!” Peter calls from where he’s sitting by Adrian’s wolf form. That guy kind of a stick in the mud, not to mention _mean_. At least Peter is fun when he’s being rude, but Adrian just gives you a half lidded look like you’re the dumbest thing on the planet.

   Stiles tries to protest, but eventually even Scott is pushing him down with that evil look your best friend always gives you when they make you do something they know that you don’t want to do.

   Stiles sighs, looking around at everyone. “Does anyone have a prompt that I can go off of?” he asks, moving to walk slowly around the fire.”

   “Silk!” Erica yells.

   “No, gold!” Peter pipes back up.

   “ _All_ the elements,” Cora barks loudly, throwing her arms up.

   Stiles grins, the best idea in the entire world forming into his head. “I’ll do all of them,” he yells.

   The wolves look impressed, and they quiet down to hear what he comes up with.

   Stiles takes a deep breath and just keeps walking slowly, knowing that none of them will judge him for not using any impressive movements since this is his first time:  
  
 _“There was once a golden princess_  
 _On a planet made of bronze_  
 _She had little platinum soldiers_  
 _And a pond with silver swans_  
  
 _Her hair was made of iron_  
 _And her eyes of shining steel_  
 _She wore a dress of bismuth_  
 _With a sash of copper reels_  
  
 _With skin of aluminum metal_  
 _And lungs lined in dark lead_  
 _It’s a wonder all the breaths she took_  
 _Didn’t turn her neck blood red_  
  
 _Tin children ran around her_  
 _With small, titanium toys_  
 _Over sidewalks lined in nickle_  
 _In her world of zinc and joy_  
  
 _But if you ever asked her_  
 _How she managed to survive_  
 _She’d simply smile down at you_  
 _And weave a silken lie.”_  
  
   Stiles practically has a heart attack when he gets the biggest echo of howls out of any story he’s ever heard, and Derek quick jumps down to kiss his cheek and pull him back up.

   “No way!” Erica says, shoving at Derek’s shoulder as he’s coming back up. “Stay down there!”

   “Yeah!” Isaac barks. “Tell everyone how you met Stiles!”

   Derek smiles. “Alright.”

   Stiles smiles widely as Derek jumps down to the fire.

   “You’re right,” Scott says as Derek is clearing his throat. “It’s totally the best!”

   While he speaks he doesn’t make eye contact with Stiles once, but instead castes shadows up on the walls.  
  
 _“Though brown his eyes, so dark in day_  
 _They shone like stars from where he lay_  
 _Staring wide and frightened there_  
 _From venturing forth on whims and dares._  
  
 _His cloak spread out like puddle blood_  
 _With splotches here and there of mud_  
 _That matched those frightened, shining eyes_  
 _And caught the wolf in all his lies._  
  
 _He didn’t want to hurt the boy_  
 _Or bat him ‘bout like fragile toys_  
 _He simply wanted to sniff close_  
 _And lick the fear around his pulse_  
 _And cure them both of lonely lives_  
 _When sun is not, and dark does rise.”_  
  
   Stiles’ jaw is dropped when Derek stops, finally looking up at him. The entire cave is filled with howls as it usually is, and Scott is whooping along with all of them even though it sounds completely out of place. Derek’s smile is perfect, and he jumps back up to kiss Stiles hard on the mouth. More howls ensue, but they die down all at once, and Stiles and the others look over to see that Caitlin and Emily are currently helping Ethan out to sit down on one of the ledges.

   “I say he does something,” Boyd says. “I want to hear it from his own lips.”

   But as Emily sits down beside him, Caitlin drops down before anybody has a chance to make Ethan do it (which Stiles is glad for, because he may have been horrible for a while, but having to eat the people you’re closest to sounds like punishment enough to him) telling his story for him:  
  
 _"When kept in evil, following kin_  
 _Comes trust and trials, wearing thin_  
 _And though in darkness, far from sight_  
 _There was, from bodies, hope and light_  
  
 _And though decaying, blood did drip_  
 _Down hands and fingers, chins and lips_  
 _And hearts beat fast like hidden mines_  
 _As friends and family chose to dine_  
  
 _They felt like monsters, long since true_  
 _From plotting death like creatures do_  
 _So ‘sorry’ graced his blood caked tongue_  
 _To plead mercy for things near done.”  
_  
   Nobody howls this time. They simple bark and whine, showing how sorry they truly are for him. Talia jumps down before it gets too bad, though, holding her arms up to silence them all. Stiles expects her to tell everyone that they’re done for the night, but instead she starts up a tale of her own:  
  
 _“In dusk and night where sun does hide_  
 _Where live two types of werewolf’s lies_  
 _The ones in which your form is true_  
 _Until the moon is far from new_  
 _The other which was never lied_  
 _When howls do breathe and glow do eyes_  
  
 _In dawn and day when sun shines down_  
 _To prove the lies your wolf laid down_  
 _And not a thing you do to prey_  
 _Will save you from the things you say_  
 _So moon and stars will be your guide_  
 _While claws slink out and fangs pierce hides.”_  
  
   She accepts only a few seconds of howls before raising her arms to silence them all again: “The events that have happened to Ethan—our pack member, our brother—are never to be spoken of again after this night. They are to be forgotten, left to rot like the home that keeps us safe. Am I clear?”

   Instead of agreeing howls, all of the wolves, Stiles, and Scott simple nod in understanding. And then the night is over, everyone dispersing to their caves for sleep.

   “Are you ready for tomorrow?” Derek asks Stiles as they all pile into their cave.

   Stiles scoffs. “Scott and I are going _home_. Are _you_ all ready for tomorrow?”

   The four wolves grin. “Completely ready.”

**XxX**

   “I’m not ready,” Stiles hisses, standing just far enough inside the forest that nobody on the Wall can see him. He’s with Scott and the entirety of the werewolf pack, Ethan all back to health since werewolves heal so quickly (he’s actually very sweet and quiet, but that may just be because he feels so horrible about everything).

   “Come _on_ , Stiles,” Scott says. “We’ve got the entire plan ready and now you’re backing out?”

   “He’s not backing out,” Erica says, shoving at him a little. “You two are going to walk out there in those skins and dazzle everyone with your new moves, and all of us are going to walk out after you in our wolf forms and hang out at the edge of the woods. So _go_.” She pushes him again, and this time Stiles keeps going, Scott hot on his heels. He already got the goodbye kiss with Derek out of the way, at least.

   It’s the middle of the day, so it’s easy for Stiles to see that the entire Wall is teeming with patrolmen and more. It’s easy for them to see Stiles and Scott, too, so everyone instantly spots them and goes crazy. “They’re alive!” is what Stiles hears the most before everything is completely drowned out in voices. A ladder is instantly thrown down, but both Stiles and Scott stay away from it. When their dads come out they manage to shut most of the people up, and it’s Patrick who speaks first:

   “Stiles?” he says. “Is that you?”

   Stiles grins, swinging his ax up to his shoulder. Scott’s better with swords and daggers, and after practicing against him a couple of times he learned just exactly how many hiding places there is for a blade. “The one and only!”

   He gapes a little bit. “What are you two _wearing_?”

   Stiles and Scott laugh. “I told you they’d hate it,” Scott says.

   “Whatever, we look awesome.” Stiles grins back up at his father. “So, we’re alive and even better than before. What do you all have to say?”

   “WITCHCRAFT!” a voice yells, and out comes Gerard Argent, flanked by his two children and daughter-in-law.

   Stiles and Scott roll their eyes at each other as the old man continues:

   “It’s dark magic! They’ve been overtaken by that _beast_ that’s next in line for the alpha!”

   Laura comes forward at that, shifting up into her usual armored-look in mid-bound. “Talking to me, old man?” she says with an evil smirk. “It’s been a long time, Gerard.”

   Gerard glares. “I should have killed you too, back when you were a pup!”

   She scoffs. “As if you didn’t kill enough of us. Of all the parents we lost, you hold the blood of _seven_. Who’s the monster now, Argent?”

   “You are! You have _always_ been the monsters!”

   “I don’t think so,” Peter says, bounding forward.

   Gerard’s eyes widen. “Peter, you soulless beast, you—”

   “ _I’m_ the soulless beast?” Peter snorts. “Let me tell you humans a little story…”

   Gerard starts to protest, but Stiles points at him. “Would somebody shut him up?”

   Maybe Stiles looks more powerful, or maybe it’s just because he survived ten days with wolves, but they do listen to him. Kate and Victoria start to protest, but they just shut them up too. Chris, on the other hand, actually looks intrigued to hear this story.

   Stiles looks back at Peter. “You were saying?”

   Peter nods before looking back up at the humans along the Wall. “Four years ago, when Gerard and I didn’t really look any different in age at all, he came to me. He left the Wall and the very first werewolf he came across—me—he made a deal with. Now, younger me agreed, but I never had any intention of going through with it. I like my pack, no matter how annoying. Gerard’s deal was a very, very evil plan that had its perks, but I couldn’t do it. Would any of you like to hear this plan?”

   Patrick silences everyone before they even have a chance to get loud. “Go on…Peter?”

   Peter nods. “Correct. This plan has been known to our alpha since its proposal, as I told her right away, and we’ve always planned on revealing it before time. This plan is to completely wipe out the werewolf race but one—me. At that point I would be the alpha, and then it would be my job to build the pack _back_ up from scratch. Do you know what that means? It means breaking passed your Wall—which I _do_ know how to do, by the way—and infecting every last one of _you_ that I think are strong enough for it. That’s probably a lot of you, and with that many new werewolves running around on the following full moon? Well, let’s just say that there won’t be any humans left after the fact.

   “Turned wolves _are_ dangerous, that’s a fact. But so are humans; so is Gerard, plotting against his entire city just so he can survive for a little bit longer. But I’m not stupid, Gerard. I _know_ that you would try to kill me to become the alpha. But you’re old! You’d have it for ten years, max. Being a wolf doesn’t give you eternal youth, idiot. So here I am, revealing your story before it even has a chance to begin.” He smirks. “How’s that for betrayal?”

   As the Wall erupts with sounds of protest, the aghast, and the disbelieving, Stiles turns straight back to Derek. This wasn’t part of the plan. “Is that true?” he snaps. “Did you know?”

   “It’s true,” Derek says, instantly beside him, “but I didn’t know. His heartbeat changed, but not for lies. It’s true.”

   “You don’t under _stand_!” Gerard snarls as everyone is trying to get the truth out of him. “Peter and I have been working together for those four years not for that, but to learn about our similarities!”

   “He’s partly lying,” Derek whispers. “The similarities part is true.”

   Stiles nods, continuing to listen to the old man: “When the first man was bitten by a rabid dog, and the mutated disease that began to spread through his body was so powerful and deadly that it awoke what we began to call _sleeper_ cells. These are dormant cells in _all_ humans; they are what changes us into werewolves. Each person has these dormant cells, we just need a way to activate them! We’re _all_ meant to be werewolves!”

   It’s Chris who speaks next: “All of the _strong_ ones, you mean? The histories tell us that not everyone takes to the bite, father. Does that mean those dormant cells aren’t strong enough?”

   “There are always sacrifices for the good of the whole, Christopher!” Gerard yells. “It would make _all_ of us stronger!”

   Now it’s Kate: “So the plan _is_ true?” she spits. “Our entire lives you taught us to _hate_ the werewolves, and now you want us to _join_ them?!”

   “No!” Gerard says. “We will destroy them and become _better_!”

   Stiles is seething. Gerard was going to destroy nearly _two_ entire species just for his own gain? “Derek,” he spits.

   “Way ahead of you,” is Derek’s reply, and then they’re moving like in a dream.

   They both run forward in sync, and just as they get to the Wall, Stiles jumps straight up so that Derek can get under his feet. He jumps up as well, pushing Stiles into the air, and Stiles flips mid-air twice before landing with spread legs on the edge of the Wall.

   Everyone gives him a wide-eyed look, and Gerard has just enough time to run around before Stiles is swinging his ax and cutting off his head even cleaner than Laura did Ennis with her big scythe.

   Everyone gasps and steps back, staring at Stiles in disbelief as he glares back at him.

   “You are all idiots,” he spits. “The monsters live _inside of us_! We’re not going to get rid of them by killing innocent creatures that happen to look scary when they want to! We take home bears and lions after hunts and you want to kill _wolves_? We don’t even eat them! Do you know what the significance in eye color is for werewolves?”

   Chris takes a step forward. “Stiles, maybe you should—”

   “ _Red_ ,” Stiles snaps, jumping down from the ledge, “is for the alpha. There is only one. Yellow is the standard color, for young and old. But blue? Oh, blue is complicated. If a wolf takes an innocent life, their gold is washed away to a cold, steel blue. Of the seventeen pack members, seven of them had blue eyes—only four of them, though, were truly evil, and they’re now dead because the alpha _ordered_ it when they tried to kill _me_. She finally did away with her own pack members to keep _me_ alive! Would a monster do that? No, but Gerard would, and that’s why he’s _dead_.

   “The other blue eyes are for putting people out of their misery, so close to death but not yet close enough. They were _mercy_ killings. The only monsters in the entire pack are dead, bringing their numbers down to thirteen. We could pick their entire pack apart eventually, but why on _earth_ would we want to do that when we can learn so much from them? And disease! They don’t have any!” He turns to his father, eyes wide. “One bite and she’s cured, father. Yes, she’ll be dangerous at first, but that’s why we change her just _after_ the full moon, giving her some time to learn how to control it. She’ll _survive_ , father!”

   “But _he_ won’t,” Victoria spits, pointing at Gerard’s lifeless body, blood still pooling out of him. “You killed him in a single swing. Those _monsters_ taught you how to do that!”

   Stiles turns towards her fully, eyes hard. “Those _monsters_ also fed and clothed me. If I had learned how to take care of myself here you would be praising me, but learning it on the other side of the Wall it’s a _bad_ thing? If I could do these things to go hunting and be on the patrol I’d be promoted to my father’s position in a _week_. Gerard needed to die, Victoria.” He looks at Chris and Kate. “You know he needed to die a _long_ time ago.”

   Kate snaps at that, lunging towards him. He knows that he can defend himself fine without killing her, but before he gets a chance to, an all new body shoots forward, knocking Kate to the side.

   Allison huffs as she cocks a bow back and points it at her aunt. “Don’t touch him,” she says darkly.

   Chris glares at that, but there’s a softness to it. “Allison, what are you doing?”

   Allison gives her father a single glance before turning one to Stiles, arrow still trained on Kate as she slowly gets up and backs towards Victoria. “It’s not going to work, Stiles,” she says. “Not here. Not yet. But I haven’t just been twiddling my thumbs in here. We can all go live out there.”

   Stiles frowns at her. “You mean…you rounded people up?”

   “Yup,” she says. “And they’re all ready to leave.”

   “ _Who_?”

   Patrick steps forward. “Well, me, for starters.”

   Stiles blinks widely at his father. “You’re kidding.”

   He shakes his head. “Your mother, too. She’s waiting right under us.”

   “And Lydia and our other friends,” Allison says. “They’re waiting with her. But it’s not enough for the whole city. There’d be too many riots.”

   “Now _wait just a minute_ ,” Robert says, waving his sword a little. “You guys can’t just _leave_!”

   Patrick smiles, patting his back. “Watch us.”

   Stiles quick leans over the edge, finding Talia’s wolf in the rest. “We can live in the teepees,” he says. “Can we do that?”

   Talia smiles as she shifts up. “We’ll make rooms in the caves.”

   So the others just watch them. People pour up the stairs and onto the Wall to get to the ladder and climb down to the forest floor. Stiles watches them all; some look terrified, others excited. Stiles sees Lydia, Jackson, Danny, Heather, Danielle, Alan, his sister Marin of Morell, Scott’s mother comes with the most excited look of all, and so many more until it’s finally the very last person besides Stiles, Patrick, and Allison: Stiles’ mother.

   “You really think you can do this?” he asks her, taking both hands.

   She gives a weak little grin. It must have been so hard getting all the way out here… “To become a werewolf so I can live longer with my son and husband? I was _born_ for it.” She laughs a little. “Get it? A born wolf?”

   Stiles definitely hears some of the wolves at the bottom give little snorts, but Patrick and Stiles just smile and Patrick takes her hands to go down with her, Caitlin and Emily going to help her once at the bottom.

   “You _can’t_ do this, Allison,” Victoria says, eyes wide in anger. “You _can’t_ , you’re our _daughter_!”

   “A daughter that’s old enough to leave,” Allison says, swinging onto the ladder. “Are you guys coming or what?”

   Stiles can tell that it hurts, but all three Argent adults refuse, so Allison is left climbing down on her own.

   “When the rest of you decide that you’re all being idiots,” Stiles says, specifically look at Rafael since he knows him the best, “just give us a holler.”

   And then he’s climbing down with the rest, following them into the forest. There are at least a hundred people there, probably more.

   “There isn’t going to be enough room in the caves,” Stiles say to Talia once he finds her. “We really will have to fix up the fake camp.”

   Talia gives a devious little smile. “We have extra caves.”

   Stiles raises an eyebrow. “You do?”

   “Yup,” Cora says, popping out of nowhere. “They’ve been closed up for years, though. Packs of the past used to have up to _fifty_ wolves in them, all fitting into the space we have now. Our ancestors built reserves in case they ever got even bigger. We’ve just had it blocked off since we don’t need them, but now we can finally use them!”

   Stiles smiles. “That’s amazing. Are there multiple entrances?”

   “We’ve always had multiple entrances,” Talia says, “we just don’t need to use them very often.”

   “Well, we should probably start if we don’t want jams. Do you think we’ll all fit around the campfire?”

   Talia laughs at that. It’s the first laugh that Stiles has ever seen her give. “We’ll make it work,” she says. “I know how much you like those.”

   Stiles grins. “More than anything.”

   “ _Almost_ anything,” Derek says, popping up beside him.

   Stiles smiles up at that. “Yeah,” he says. “Almost anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I haven’t explained why I chose the poems for the other ones, but I decided this one was super confusing unless you’ve got the same clever mind that I do (not really), so I’m just going to explain all of the lines individually because I can :P
> 
> 1\. They all reeked of the same perfume: Earthy and warm  
> 2\. Bled the same color: Red, just like humans  
> 3\. Were called by the same name: werewolf  
> 4\. They’re more than a species, I’m sure: They’re all a pack; a family  
> 5\. And for evil that is perfect: Deucalion, Ennis, Kali, and Aiden  
> 6\. For torture that is white: Ethan’s whole predicament  
> 7\. For pain that is innocent: When wolves have blue eyes from the innocent killed  
> 8\. There is no certain cure: Claudia can become a wolf to get rid of her disease, but even wolves can still die  
> 9\. But everything that follows: “Cause and effect”, which is all of this shit is going down because Stiles and Derek fell in love  
> 10\. Everything enticed: Stiles being allured to Derek  
> 11\. Everything intrigued: Derek being allured to Stiles  
> 12\. By all these shades of man: Good and Evil  
> 13\. Simple wishes burn: Shooting stars  
> 14\. Coins tossed in the fountain: The waterfall?? This doesn’t really have one.  
> 15\. What is your brilliant plan?: Making the humans believe that the werewolves aren’t monsters because they keep Stiles and Scott alive
> 
> Also, all of the ryming story things? Most of them are poems that I’ve written over the years, haha :P Isaac and Cora’s is called The Basket Weaver, and that was written on May 20th of 2011. It’s not supposed to be very good, but just sort of weird. Laura and Jennifer’s (titled Bounty Hunter and originally in a singular context) is July 9 of 2013, Boyd and Erica’s (titled The Evil She) was some random time in 2010 when I was experimenting with weird concepts, the one that Stiles made up (titled A Silken Lie) is the most recent on July 10th of 2013, Derek’s, Caitlin’, and Emily’s (no titles) were made up specifically for the fic, and Talia’s is pretty heavily edited from an untitled September 2013 one. I like the real version better, so here:
> 
> In dusk and night where sun does hide  
> Where live two types of people’s lies  
> The ones in which your love is true  
> Until you sleep and start anew  
> The other which was never lied  
> When last breathes breathe and lovers die
> 
> In dawn and day when sun shines down  
> To prove the lies your dark laid down  
> And not a thing you do or pray  
> Will save you from the things you say  
> So moon and stars will be your guide  
> While lies slink out and lovers hide
> 
> I was actually trying to write a love poem. Whoops! XD Also the last line of Bounty Hunter is “Or guns come out and bullets fly”, but there aren’t any guns in this, so I had to change it. Anyway! On with the fic! I hope you’re all enjoying it thus far. There’s only one part left: the epilogue! :)


	4. Epilogue: Survivors

_Oh darling didn’t you know that you and I could be_  
 _Simply a thing of eternity._  
 _And you and I can run until the sun gone_  
 _And all that’s left of us is a broken dawn._  
 _For when we dream of things that we can only wish_  
 _There is a world ahead—and a broken kiss._  
  
 _But when we wish for things that are more than dreams_  
 _You and I can find that it’s more than it seems._  
 _Instead of wondering how and where and when and why_  
 _You can simply leap and you can touch the sky._  
 _And swim until we find the treasure sunken down_  
 _Darling we will never ever touch the ground.  
_ —Never Touch the Ground by Katherine Martin—

_3 Months Later…_

   Stiles stretches out, pressing his hands up against Derek’s furry wolf belly. Derek wakes up right away, morphing right into his human form and pulling Stiles back against him. Nobody else is crammed into their cave with them, now… Scott and Allison have their own cave, Erica and Boyd are taking up their own again, and Isaac and Cora finally got together about a month ago and now have their own as well—and they’re not the only ones. Danny and Ethan started hanging out and they just never stopped.

   “Good morning,” Derek says, kissing his forehead.

   Stiles hums, pressing up against him more. It’s getting cold out now, so their cave has more furs and things in it, but mostly Stiles just crams himself underneath Derek’s wolf form and he’s fine. The caves are always pretty cold anyway, though, since the sun never reaches it. Stiles hates that. He _likes_ the sun, but being stuck in the caves means that he’s getting even more pale than usual.

   At least all of the tunnels now have torches attached to the sides. There are more humans that can’t see in the dark, now, so it was basically mandatory. Over the last three months even more of the humans from the city have come out (some of them being Rafael and even Robert) to live in the caves, and by now there’s hardly anymore extra caves left at all. Some people are working on carving out more, currently.

   And Stiles’ mother? She got bit by Talia (apparently only alpha’s can give someone the bite) after the very next full moon, and while she had to be kept in solitary confinement for the following one, she took to learning to control it very fast and can now interact with anyone at any time of the month. She’s all better—she’s going to _survive_.

   A few people were a little scared of Stiles for the first couple of weeks after hearing about the whole Gerard thing, but they gave that up pretty quick when they heard all of the specifics. Stiles favorite part of the day is still telling stories around the campfire, though they’ve had to bring it down from every night since there are so many more people that need food, water, and clothes. But now _everyone_ participates in the stories… Scott and Allison, Alan and Marin, Robert, and so many more—even Rafael did one at one point, but that was just once. Stiles himself has gotten pretty good at them, and sometimes he does them alone, but a lot of the time he gets together with a friend to throw out an idea that they can do together when the time comes. Mostly he does them with Derek or Scott, but once he did it with Claudia on how she survived, and another time with his father and Derek about killing Gerard.

   “Want to go get something to eat?” Derek asks, pushing his fingers through Stiles’ hair.

   Stiles nods, pushing into a sitting position.

   It’s when they’re about halfway down the hall to the main cave that Stiles feels a little shake, and he and Derek stop dead, grabbing each other’s hands, when the shake becomes much greater, shaking dust and dirt from the ceilings and causing others to come out of their caves.

   “What was that?” Stiles says, looking back at Derek.

   His blue eyes are glowing and wide. “Do you think…?”

   “It can’t be.”

   “It might be.”

   “Let’s go see!”

   Almost everyone in the caves has the same idea that they do, everyone pouring out of all the exits so that they can get up to the surface. Stiles just hops onto Derek’s wolf back so that they get to the Wall even faster, and it’s true. It’s really true.

   “Oh my god,” Stiles says, eyes wide as Derek shifts back up into his human form.

   Three entire sections of the Wall have been collapsed, revealing the city inside and the humans living from it. There are some standing up on the rubble and others up on the standing parts of the Wall, everyone staring as the wolves and other humans come into the clearing.

   “They’re taking it down!” somebody yells. Other voices echo, everybody amazed that it’s finally happening.

   As they’re standing there, more of the sections on the other side are collapsed after a large explosion. Stiles recognizes the feelings of those. The explosion was the first little shake, and then the actual collapsing was what shook the caves. It shakes them now, too, sending a few of the children that came with to their knees.

   It’s Chris that Stiles sees first, making his way towards them. “We decided that this is for the best,” he says, actually smiling the slightest bit. “Victoria and Kate are still a little on the skeptical side, though, so be gentle with them. Especially _you_ ”—he points at Stiles. “Kate is never going to forgive you for killing our father no matter _how_ badly he needed to die. Careful around her.”

   Stiles nods. He’s about to say more, but he hears Allison yelling “father!” from behind them, so instead he and Derek just move closer to the rubble as Chris darts passed them to where his daughter is.

   “It’s really happening,” Stiles says, stopping about halfway through the broken stones of the Wall.

   “It really is,” Derek says, squeezing his hand.

   Stiles looks up at him, smiling. “No more caves?”

   Derek smiles, pulling Stiles closer to him. “No more caves.”

   And so they walk into the city, hands held tight, and survive along with everybody else.

_**-THE END-** _

_Once, in time, round Walls did rise_   
_And humans hid behind their lies_   
_The wolves were feared of, hence why banned_   
_And humans called them far from man_   
  
_But as time passed, and born wolves reigned_   
_Two boys of young looked for the slain_   
_They knew of how to flee the Wall_   
_To look for one cast out from all_   
  
_A dangerous feat in such a time_   
_Proved when met with eyes that shine_   
_But though evil, with fangs and claws_   
_The wolf morphed up from fur and paws_   
  
_Too scared to move, the boys thought death_   
_Was all that’d come from heavy breath_   
_But never it came, from wolf or other_   
_For howls ripped through, calling each other_   
  
_And off he ran, back on all fours_   
_So sprint they did to live some more_   
_Except, in darkness, on following night_   
_The boy in red went back, no fright_   
  
_The wolf was waiting with eyes of blue_   
_To show the red of love he knew_   
_And little red returned some more_   
_To fall in love and gain his lore_   
  
_And days and nights passed like the sun_   
_Where people learned what he had done_   
_But red refused to give up blue_   
_Which brought along what thought was doom_   
  
_Ten days it took to learn how wrong_   
_The humans were, in crowds and throngs_   
_And though a single man did die_   
_Down came the Wall and all the lies_   
  
_Now pureblood men are myth of age_   
_And wolves are free of caves that cage_   
_With sickness gone thanks to a bite_   
_All love is free to the lull of night._

* * *

If you liked this story, I've got another one that's similar to it in setting and the like! It's called Howl of the Dragon, and you can find it on here too :)


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